


House of Cards: A Beginner’s Guide to Navigating the Quadrants

by liesunseen



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Culture Shock, Fluff and Angst, Illustrated, Interspecies, M/M, Meteor, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesunseen/pseuds/liesunseen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Splitoff timeline—the battleship catches up with the meteor on its trip to the next session. John, Jade, the sprites, and the consorts assimilate themselves into everyday life in the troll's former ectobiology laboratory. Faced with what could well be the end of the existence of two races, relationships form and dissolve, tension rises, and in the middle of all this John comes to the disconcerting realization that Karkat is actually kind of cute. Like a puppy dog, or a little kid. Not cute in that way, definitely not. No.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Brief Introduction to Humans and Trolls

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows the timeline of the comic more or less canonically up till around the end of Act 6 Intermission 1, where it proceeds to veer off the tracks and do its own thing. No alphas, no dream bubbles, no dancestors… I just really wanted to write a meteor fic.

 

 

**House of Cards**

**A Beginner’s Guide to Navigating the Quadrants. Contains Also a Brief Observational Analysis of Troll Morphology and Psychology**

**Or,**

**Interspecies Relationships For Complete Morons**

by Rose Lalonde

Co-authored by the author’s esteemed colleague and inamorata, Kanaya Maryam

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

**Foreword: Introduction and Acknowledgements**

 

Greetings and salutations, friend. It is with great pleasure and only mild chagrin that I, Rose Lalonde, and my confederate and partner-in-crime, Kanaya Maryam, would like to welcome you to _A Beginner’s Guide to Navigating the Quadrants_. Now, before we begin, I feel it is appropriate to give credit where credit is due. First and foremost, the author would like to thank one Kanaya Maryam, co-writer, editor, and fact-checker extraordinaire, by virtue of whose insistence I took it upon myself to write this manual in the first place. Without her incessant prompting and inveigling, I possess serious doubts as to whether this intricate and admittedly in some ways protracted compendium would have ever been put to the page.

In addition, I wish to personally thank the following individuals for their contributions in the realm of motivation, knowledge accrued through vigorous trial-and-error, and, most importantly, inspiration: one Dave Strider, and one Terezi Pyrope. (Edit: The author would like to expand this list to include two recent influences on the body of work at hand, one John Egbert, and one Karkat Vantas. These luminaries have offered us the much-needed opportunity to reevaluate some of our previous conclusions, and in the end managed to turn some of our most dearest-held convictions on their heads. The author wishes to express a sense of gratitude and frank amazement at their unrelenting fortitude in the face of exceptional opposition. Well done, sirs, well done indeed.)

If by some spectacular good fortune we, or at the very least, this book, survive the trial by fire that is to come, it is my hope that this tome might go down in history as the very first attempt at a somewhat in-depth interspecies social analysis. (Edit the Second: Upon deeper investigation of the previous statement, my dear co-author has just now informed me that troll sociologists have in fact come into contact with and analyzed at least thirty distinct species, as part of the requisite enforced documentation that the Sociobliterators were legally required to append into the Alternian Archives, just before said species were slated to be brutally conquered. I suppose we can drolly thank the Legion of Legislacerators for their unflagging commitment to archival history.)

Let’s use that as a segue for introducing the topic of the observational and critical analysis of troll-human relationships, or as it is otherwise known, “the purpose of this book.” By now you, dear reader, are in all likelihood harboring a multitude of burning inquiries. Madame Author, you are perhaps tempted to ask, what is the exact intent of this exercise? Moreover what is the reason, pray tell, for this impassioned hankering for sociological analysis, directed at the examination of interspecies relationships in particular? Well, if I am to be truly honest with myself, this hankering is nothing greater or less that a strict matter of need. In this particular universe that I—and I am assuming you as well, dear reader—happen to inhabit, both humanity and trollkind are now but remnants of formerly thriving species, and it is my firmly-held opinion that we must learn to understand and coexist with one another. The only alternative is of course to perish, and as you can no doubt imagine my preference is that we avoid this fate at all costs. In fact it is my perhaps naive and overly-optimistic hope that we may find a way to win this game, and restore our two species to at least their former, pre-game states, if not… something a little bit better than before, for all one knows. Yet, if that somehow fails to come to pass, what that means is that we’re all that’s left. Therefore the onus is on us to work things out, to discover a way to peacefully, conceivably even harmoniously, coexist. I reiterate, it is a matter of need.

Alas, this prelude has taken a turn for the grim. Going forward, I will attempt to approach this in as lighthearted a manner as possible, as I am well aware that it can at times be heavy material. In the spirit of helpfulness, I will leave you with a final snippet of advice: if at any time the grim fact that this treatise represents a glimpse into what may well be the final days of two peoples, take heart, dear reader. Though I and my compatriots may die, our spirits live on in the words of this text, crusading for the virtuous and worthy task of broadening the scope of scientific enlightenment for all. 

Truly, what more can one ask for?

 

~ Rose Lalonde

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1: A Brief Introduction to Humans and Trolls

 

Before Jade had even worked out the logistics of how, exactly, one might go about “docking” a massive, floating cruise ship to an even more massive, rapidly-moving meteor, John had already used the windy thing to disembark. The meteor’s surface, rocky and pockmarked with craters, rose to meet him at an alarming rate, and he was barely able to check his speed in time to avoid smashing face-first into gravel.

It wasn’t John’s fault he was excited. After all, he’d spent the last three years of his life aboard that liner, separated from his two best human friends, along with his cool new alien buddies, one of whom had definitely asked him out on a date the last time they’d talked. John wasn’t sure how much of a “date” he and Vriska would be able to manage here on this bleak chunk of rock, but damned if he wasn’t willing to try! 

He’d devoted what was probably an inordinate amount of time on the ship to fantasizing about his first true, real-life meeting with Vriska. The things he’d say. What she’d say in return. What she’d actually looklike. He’d only ever seen the trolls once, by way of a several-second glimpse through Jade’s body when she’d used her space powers to morph into a sort of trans-dimensional telescope. And that had been from a distance. And blurry. All he could make out was that they looked more or less like gray-colored humans with horns, which was to say, sort of like Howie from _Little Monsters_. He was okay with that.

John managed to successfully land without faceplanting into the ground, but something else hit him instead. A wave of sweltering heat and humidity, leaving him instantly short of breath and sweaty. Intense! Why was it so hot out here? If anything, he’d expected it to be cold on the meteor. Maybe it had something to do with the propulsion? Anyway, he sure hoped that those laboratories were air-conditioned, and that Rose, Dave, and all of the trolls hadn’t fried to a crisp months ago.

Now that was a worrisome thought. Where was everybody? Were they in the labs? John shaded his eyes and squinted, peering across the landscape at a tiny speck in the distance that may or may not have been human-shaped. Hmm… yes! That definitely looked like two arms, two legs, and a head! 

Breaking into a grin, John summoned the Breeze again, trying not to question how wind could exist without atmosphere—game logic, right?—and lifted off, rocketing through the blistering-hot air towards the far-off figure.

He waved and hollered the whole way, until the person finally noticed, turning to look his way. The young man's shirt had been discarded in the heat, but John could have recognized the distinctive shape of those aviator sunglasses from miles away. “Daaaaaaaave!”

“John?!”

Laughing, John dropped into a dive-bomb, descending on his friend from above and whirling around and around as he embraced him in a joyous, though admittedly rather sweaty bro-hug. The sword Dave had been practicing with flew out of his hands and spun through the air, sticking blade-down in the ground a ways away, quivering. That could’ve been dangerous! Whoops.

“Shit son, if it isn’t John Egbert.” Dave’s voice was honey-smooth as a radio DJ’s, a little wheezy from being hugged so hard, but otherwise just as John had imaged, Texan drawl and everything. “The hell’d you come from? Where’s Jade, and the rest of the entourage?”

“Still on the ship!” John held his friend at arm’s length, grinning like a maniac. He was downright giddy with the realization that the wait was finally over. After all they’d been through, his best friends were together at long last. “They should be here any minute! Jade’s handling the, uh, anchoring, I guess? And Jaspers, Nanna, and other Dave… you know, the sprites?”

“I know the sprites.”

“They’re helping the other passengers, getting them all ready to disembark! I came down first to look for you guys!”

Dave pried John’s sweaty arms from around his neck and bent to retrieve his sword. “Dammit, I missed the heck outta you, John. I mean, I missed everybody, but you in particular.”

“Aww, Dave, that’s so sweet!”

“Ain’t been the same around here without you, bro. Nobody but cranky trolls and novel-writing broads with size-XXL vocabularies for company.”

“Rose is writing a novel?” That wasn’t really all that surprising, but John was struck by the fact that it had been way too long. It felt like he’d been out of touch with his friends _forever,_ and he wanted to know everything they’d been up to in the meantime. Everything _._

“Dude c'mon, this is Lalonde we're talking about here.” Dave shook his head as if in disappointment. “My overly-cerebral sis has, in fact, written exactly eight novels and a novella since you’ve been away, and is currently hard at work on her ninth.”

“Wha? Seriously?”

“Seriously. All co-written by her alien girlfriend, of course, with the occasional disturbingly enthusiastic addition from Troll Romeo himself.”

“Alien girlfri—oh my God, really? Wait, who’s Troll Romeo?”

“Oh, you know. That one sulky bastard.” Dave didn’t move. His expression didn’t change. But, "Speaking of whom, hey. Looks like Vantas wants a hug too.” With that, he gave John an unexpected shove, and he stumbled backwards into something warm and… organic-feeling?

Whatever it was, it _growled._

Whipping his head around, John found his field of vision filled by a pair of enormous, vibrant yellow eyes, as well as a whole mouthful of dagger-like teeth, inches from his face. He yelped, jumping back and reaching instinctively towards his hammerkind specibus, before he realized that what he was looking at wasn't some sort of monster. It was a humanoid figure. Gray. With horns. 

One of the trolls! Slightly shorter than him, wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, hiding most of his face. Yet, it definitely looked like a “he.” And…

Oh! That gray symbol on his shirt!

 

“Karkat!” Specibus conjuration instantly forgotten, John smiled wide and opened his arms. “Karkat, that’s you, isn’t it? Oh my gosh!”

He'd meant to go in for the hug, but something about the troll’s body language stopped him. His entire frame tensed up the second the boy moved, huge yellow eyes growing even wider, lips drawing back to show off waaaay more teeth than John was comfortable with. The boy hesitated. He lowered his arms, frowning. Was Karkat angry at him? He thought they’d been on pretty good terms after their last conversation!

“Egbert _kyrii chksyaalra etri_ , Strider!” 

John blinked. That was definitely not English. It didn't sound like any human language, for that matter. The words were garbled and strange, each syllable accompanied by an underlying layer of chirpy clicking sounds, and the "r’s" were really growly. Besides the names, John couldn't understand a word, but he did know that it hadn't sounded very friendly!

Looking past John, Karkat glared right at Dave, gesticulating with, whoa, were those claws? The troll’s huge eyes had narrowed to tiny slits, pupils growing much bigger than a human's beneath the lids, the meteor’s greenish glow reflecting off them like a nocturnal predator’s. John took one halting step back, glancing nervously between Karkat and Dave. What the fuck was going on here?

Dave smirked. Then, to John's utter astonishment, he casually replied to Karkat in the growl-click language. It kind of sounded like he was butchering the growls and clicks, even to John’s ears. In his friend's defense, they didn’t sound at all easy on the human mouth.

Whatever he’d said, it made the troll even angrier! Snarling—holy shit, he was scarier than a pissed-off Becquerel!—Karkat promptly gave Dave the finger with one extended claw, whirled on his heel with a _crunch_ of loose gravel, and took off in a blur. Shooting straight up the side of the wall of one of the laboratory buildings, he vanished over the top, _Prince of Persia_ -style. 

John’s mouth dropped open. Dave snorted, adjusting his shades. “Trolls, amiright?”

“Um.” John tented his fingers, pressing them together under his chin. “Hey. What just happened?”

“Weird alien shit." Dave shrugged. "You know how it is.”

“No, I don’t! I’ve never met any of the trolls yet. Not in real life, I mean! Dave, what was that about? Is Karkat mad at me or something?”

“Nah. Pay no attention to Dickface. He’s always doing this thing where he tries to order people around, then goes running back to his moirail like a spoiled diva cut off from his coke supply when he doesn’t get his way. Dude thinks he’s fuckin’ Napoleon around here or some shit.”

“What'd he say? What did _you_ say?”

“Eh, think he wanted to talk to you alone or something equally ludicrous. I gave him a rough estimate of how hard he could fuck off. At least, I think that’s what ‘ _vraekshae orrra ni kthakte’_ means.”

“Oh.” John frowned, gazing towards the ugly gray facility Karkat had vanished over the top of. There were some long, deeply-carved scratch marks visible in its steel wall. “I hope it wasn’t something important.”

Dave gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Pretty sure I know what that shit was about, actually. And if I’m right, well. I’m also pretty sure he shouldn’t be the one to tell you about it.”

John smacked himself on the forehead, groaning. “Quit being so mysterious, dude. And, hey! When the heck did you learn to speak troll?”

“Been listening to that hot mess of a mother tongue for three years, bro. Be pretty hard not to pick up a phrase here and there. You ought to peep this sick Alternian rap I’ve been cooking up, goes a little something like—”

“Not now, Dave!” John smacked himself on the forehead a second time. Then a third. “Aw man, this wasn’t how today was supposed to go!” No, today was supposed to have been a happy occasion, friends joyously reuniting after years of forced separation. They were supposed to laugh, group-hug, tell stupid jokes, and tease one another. Not get all mad at each other and run off in a huff.

Dave grabbed John’s wrist before he ended up leaving a bruise on his own forehead. “Hey now, don’t get all worked up over Vantas. The Amazing Bitchboy pulls this sort of shit daily. Rains on parades like it's in his job description to be the littlest, angriest stormcloud in the motherfucking sky.” Dave placed his other hand firmly on John’s shoulder. “He’s basically the official ruiner of shit. That’s just what he does, it’s kind of his thing. But he’ll come around.” 

John lowered his hands, expression pitiful. “Sure about that?”

“Yeah, man. He just needs to go cry blood-red emo tears on the shoulder of the most terrifying assclown on this meteor, with whom he is apparently embroiled in alien bromance with, for whatever unfathomable reason. He’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

“What?” John’s eyes widened. “Wait, trolls have clowns? And bromance?”

“So it would seem.”

“And blood-red tears? Eww!”

“Not all of 'em, just Vantas.” Dave made a mysterious hand gesture, so mysterious that John wasn’t entirely sure what it was supposed to convey. “Egbert, remind me to get somebody else to tell you about the really not even a little bit fascinating troll cultural and biological system known as the Hemospectrum. You’ll be amazed and horrified, and probably die a little bit inside.”

“Oh. Sure. Okay.” He wasn’t sure how that had anything to do with what they’d just been talking about, but he reminded himself that both Dave and Rose had been in the company of a race of teenage aliens for three years. It wouldn’t be too surprising if their weird alien ways had rubbed off on them a bit. Or maybe it was just because his friends were pretty weird human beings already! John smiled at that thought, and Dave shook his head.

“Damn dude, you are without a doubt John Egbert to a fucking T. Look at you, standing there all spacing out, smiling at nothing like the biggest doofus. You behave just as I imagined, and you look just as I imagined, too. Taller, maybe.”

And John laughed, because at that moment he realized that he, John Egbert, stood about five inches higher than his unflappable cool-guy friend! And Dave was obviously all kinds of jealous of that fact. Even though Dave was comparatively more muscular, which really wasn’t fair, because John had spent much of his three years on the ship training for battle. He’d diligently done pushups and situps, and jogged back and forth across the ship until even Davesprite had gotten tired of sticking a foot out—or ghost tail, in Davesprite’s case—and tripping him en route.

But whatever. He was here now, with Dave, and soon he’d be reunited with Rose too. And he’d meet all of the other trolls who weren’t being weirdass crybabies, and everything would be great!

Dave, shielding his eyes, peered towards the sky. “Check it, here comes the welcoming committee. Well, most of ‘em, anyway.”

Following his gaze, John at first could only make out one very odd-looking, blobby shape drifting through the sky, headed in their direction. Staring, he removed his humidity-fogged glasses and gave them a good wipe on his hoodie—man, he really needed to change into something cooler as soon as possible—and replaced them on his nose.

“What am I even looking at?” The shape in the sky was now only larger and even more confusing.

“It’s a surprise. Wait and see.” John stuck out his lower lip, glaring as shades-sporting boy smirked at him.

As the shapes drew closer, he was able to differentiate the forms of… was that a person? No, two people, with wings? Or was it three?

Wow! Wings? Did trolls have wings?

“Who’s that, Dave? Huh?”

“Guess.”

“Daaave!” John grabbed Dave’s arm and shook him, bouncing with impatience. “Jussst tellll meeeee!”

Dave patiently endured this treatment. “I must politely insist you cool your tits the fuck down, Good Sir Jonathan.”

“Ew Dave.” John made a face. “You know I’m not Jonathan, I’m just John.” 

The figures alighted, and now it was obvious that there were indeed three of them. Swooping a hand wide and dropping to one knee, Dave said, “Just John, allow me to introduce you to Just Rose, Just Kanaya, and Just Terezi.” Only one was human. Rose! So that’s what she looked like when she wasn’t grimdark! The other two sported insect-like wings, and they were exceedingly tall as well, spindly, gray-skinned, and definitely _not_ _human_. All three were smiling at him, though.

 

“H-hello!” John, suddenly bashful, waved. “I’ve already met Rose in real life, but not Kanaya and Terezi! So, um, hi, nice to real-life meet you!”

“The pleasure is ours.” One of the two tall, winged figures dipped her horned head politely in greeting. “You are the one referred to as ‘John,’ correct?” She spoke with a strange accent, clicking softly on the hard consonants and growling on the "r’s." Despite this, her English was perfect, words enunciated with the precision and care of a well-educated, non-native speaker. John wondered whether Vriska talked like this, too.

“Oh yeah, that one’s Egbert alright! I can smell the blue on him from here!” The other winged girl grinned as she spoke, showing off a mouthful of daggerlike teeth. She had a much heavier accent. “How’ve ya been, Mr. Blueberries ’n Cream?” Dave snorted, and he and the troll who was definitely, without a doubt, Terezi, exchanged a fist bump. It was pretty funny, considering their significant height difference. Terezi and Kanaya each had to be over six feet tall, and that wasn’t even counting the horns!

Wow, John thought, was that a troll thing? But Karkat hadn’t been that tall! Also, what the heck was the deal with the wings? Karkat hadn’t had those, either! Maybe it was a _girl_ troll thing?

His train of thought was interrupted as Rose made her way forward and embraced him. “It's good to see you again, John. I’ve missed you dreadfully.”

“I’ve missed you dreadfully too!” John squeezed her so hard, anyone else would have been crushed, though it would probably take more than a fleet of steamrollers to crush Rose Lalonde. She was smaller and slenderer than Dave, but in many ways the two blondes looked strikingly similar. They had the same pale skin with a smattering of freckles, the same high cheekbones and sharp facial features, the same air of cool, self-assuredness. 

Despite this, John noticed that Rose was flushed and sweaty. Like Dave, she’d stripped down to the bare essentials, a short dress with spaghetti straps and slip-on shoes with no socks. As soon as John released her, she started idly fanning herself with one hand. She didn’t appear to be enjoying this heat very much, either.

“Geez guys, why’s it so crazy hot here?” John lifted his arms and summoned a nice, strong Breeze to cool them all down. Rose and Dave lifted their faces into the gust of air, looking relieved, but John was surprised to see Kanaya and Terezi shiver and turn away. The fact registered that both troll girls were wearing long-sleeve shirts and long pants. Well, a long skirt, in Kanaya’s case.

“We’ve only got one thermostat for the majority of this rock,” Dave explained, looking bummed out as John allowed the windy thing to die down. “And it turns out that the trolls’ planet is hella hot and wet compared to good ol’ Earth. Got one up on Austin, even.”

“Oh.” John wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. “So… wow, this is the weather you’ve been living with this whole time?” Then, taking in the two chilly-looking trolls in disbelief, he added, “You guys are actually cold? In this?”

“We’ve been freezing our butts off for the whole three years! I swear, you squishy-types must live on one heck of a frosty-cold iceball of a planet.” Crossing her arms over her conspicuously flat chest, Terezi gritted her dagger-teeth and shivered melodramatically.

John… couldn't help but notice the small-chestedness of both female trolls, especially compared to Rose, who'd definitely filled out over the three years. In all those years of daydreaming about meeting Vriska, he'd often wondered: were trolls even mammals? Reading back through his conversations with both her and Karkat, he'd realized that… hmm. Possibly not.

Not that that was a dealbreaker, or anything! If Vriska turned out to not have boobs, well, whatever cool alien parts she probably had instead would totally make up for it! Smiling to himself, John decided then and there that he'd like Vriska for how she was, no matter what.

“Taking both of our species’ needs into account, we have adjusted the meteor’s temperature to remain within what Rose and I have determined to be a tolerable range,” Kanaya explained, pursing her flawlessly painted lips around her two long, protruding fangs. “Undeniably, this has resulted in an extended period of discomfort for everyone. Yet that is still, I suppose, preferable to having one species or the other perish due to overexposure to heat or cold.”

“Y-yeah, I guess so.” John’s smile was flagging. He hadn’t even thought about things like this! He began to worry about his upcoming date with Vriska. How much fun could they possibly have together if they were dying of heat or cold? 

Shaking his head a little, he decided that, no, it wouldn’t be so bad. He would just have to find a t-shirt and shorts and pretend it was a beach date or something, and Vriska could bundle up in a cute parka with fur trim. They would sure be a funny-looking couple! But that was okay. Hey, at least they could both breathe the same air! He wondered if they could eat the same kinds of foods. Well, if not, that was okay too, there were cases with humans where one person had an allergy or was on a diet or whatever, and they had to eat separate—

“Earth to Egbert. Come in Egbert.” Dave was waving one arm back and forth in front of John’s face.

“Oh. Haha, sorry!" John smiled, sheepish. "I spaced out for a minute.”

“So we noticed!” Terezi cackled, pointing her cane at him. “And just what filthy things were going through that adorable little egghead of yours, hmm?”

John fumbled for an excuse, but was unable to come up with anything. “Um… nothing?”

“Aha! If you're thinking at all, it’s impossible to think about nothing! John Egbert, you have been caught in a lie! How does the defendant plead?”

“I’m not lying!” Before really thinking, John protested, “I think about nothing all the time!”

“Straight-up truth.” 

John stuck out his tongue at Dave.

“Is he… ill?” Kanaya was asking Rose in an undertone, one elegantly arched eyebrow raised.

“Why, no. He simply possesses a particularly endearing aspect, which those who frequent certain recesses of the internet refer to as ‘aderpable.’” Rose began patting John on the head like a puppy. “Over time, I suspect you’ll grow as fond of him as we all have. In fact, studies have shown that it is virtually impossible not to.”

“Hell Kan, is this not the most delightful motherfucker you’ve ever laid eyes on?” Dave slapped John on the back in a rugged display of mangrit.

“Ow, Dave!” John tried to frown, but couldn’t make his face do anything but beam from ear to ear as both of his human pals gathered him up into an enthusiastic three-way hug. With an excited squeal, Terezi threw herself into the mix as well, overly-long limbs encircling all three kids with ease. 

“I hereby declare this interspecies group hug rumpus officially in session! C’mon Kanaya, get in on this shit!”

“Ah, well, I…” Kanaya hesitated, and Rose simply reached out an arm, grabbed her, and reeled her in. “Oh. I see. Very well then.” She conceded defeat with a reluctant, twitching smile. 

John was a little worried that the troll girls’ paper-thin wings were going to be crushed, but they proved admirably resilient, unfolding readily after having been crinkled hard. For some reason, as the hug broke up, Terezi continued to cling to Dave’s arm. Oh boy. John was going to have to have a stern, man-to-man talk with Dave about flirting with other girls! After all, he and Jade were an item now. Well… Jade and Davesprite. But, Davesprite was just an alternate-timeline Dave, so… 

Wait, how did that work, anyway?

“Heeeeeey, guys!”

Uh oh, and there was Jade right now, in the sky! She was soaring towards them with Davesprite in tow, waving excitedly with both hands, a big smile visible on her face even from a distance. Shielding his eyes against the glare of the weird atmosphere, John looked back towards the ship and saw a neatly-organized crowd of sprites, carapaces, and consorts clustering around a pile of unloaded cargo. Nannasprite appeared to be giving orders as they sorted through the supplies, stacking their belongings into neat piles for easy transportation to… wherever they would all ultimately be rooming. Well, until the meteor reached its destination in the new session, anyway.

Seemed like Jade had gotten everything under control quickly enough. Looking at Dave and Terezi, John swallowed. “Um, Dave,” he began, but he was cut off as the boy raised an arm skyward and began to wave.

“Yo, Harley!” As he shouted his greeting, he lowered his arm back down and placed it around Terezi’s slim waist. John wasn’t sure what to think about any of this, all of the sudden. Hang on, was Dave…? Oh shit! Was he cheating on John’s sister?

But wait, how was he supposed to have known that an alternate version of himself was dating a different girl? John’s mouth went dry all of the sudden. Oh no. This was bad. 

Jade landed, smiling, but he noticed that her smile was now looking a little strained as she looked at Dave and Terezi. “Um… hi! How’s it going?” Looking confused and a little hurt, Jade nonetheless erased her frown, greeting her long-lost friends with a big smile. 

Davesprite floated down from the sky to hover beside Jade. John noticed that the sprite's feathers were literally ruffled, as he stared down at the alpha version of himself, his arm around another girl’s waist. The coolkid's pokerface wavered a little, a line creasing his forehead as he contemplated this unexpected situation.

“Sup, other me?” normal Dave asked, looking unshaken, though maybe a little puzzled at all the attention he was getting. Everybody was staring at him.

Terezi sniffed the air audibly, then broke into a delighted grin. “Dave, you never told me you also came in orange creamsickle flavor!”

“I’m full of surprises, babe.” Dave waggled his eyebrows. And then, he tilted his head in and kissed Terezi full on the lips, and she began returning the kiss, _oh no—_

John cringed, and beside him, Jade let out a little pained cry. “I… Dave! W-what do you think you're doing?" 

Dave and Terezi froze.

"Yeah, the hell, dude?" Davesprite hovered forward, wrapping an arm around Jade's waist, puffed-up feathers almost doubling his size. "We're dating Jade!" 

Dave and Terezi broke off their kiss. An awkward, uncomfortable silence descended. The two couples stared at one another, looks of realization and horror growing on all four faces.

This was definitely not shaping up to be the reunion John had hoped for.

"Whoa, man.” Dave held up his hands towards his alternate self, palms-out. “Chill. Now, who's this 'we' we're talking about?"

"Who the fuck do you think 'we' is, you huge douchesack? 'We' is you and me, we're the same goddamn person in case you forgot.” Davesprite leaned forward, green haze glinting bright off his shades. "And don't you even think about using bullshit semantics to weasel out of this one." 

"Hey, Dave and, uh, other Dave? Cool it!" John stepped between Dave and Davesprite, unable to hold off any longer. "C'mon, this is our first reunion in three years! Don't—!" 

"Stay out of this, John.” Dave motioned for him to step aside. He spoke in a slow, calm, it’s-damage-control-time voice. "This is between me and me. Just give us a minute aside, fellas, we’ll get this whole mess figured out in a jiffy.”

"Not cool, coolkid.” Terezi had drawn back from Dave's side. Though her tone was playful, the corners of her black lips were turned down hard, reminding John of the frowny-face emoticon she’d often used. “Heh, never thought you'd turn out to be a two-timer, Knight of Time."

John cringed internally. Did that mean that Dave wasn’t just hitting on Terezi casually? Were they “a thing?” A thing as in, a dating thing? Oh boy. If Davesprite was dating Jade, and regular Dave was dating Terezi, what was going to happen when the two Daves fused back together? That was what he, Jade, and Davesprite had assumed was going to happen when they reached the next session, but none of them had counted on any of this.

Dave gave Terezi a tiny shrug. “C’mon babe, you know I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. Like I said, just gimme a minute alone with my feathery doppleganger here. We’ll get this all—”

“Oh, um, hey! I think maybe Nannasprite needs me back at the ship, ahahaha! I’ll be right back, guys!”

The high, wavering voice cut through the rest of the chatter, and everyone turned as one towards its source—Jade. To John's distress, there were a couple of tears running down his usually-bubbly ectosister's face. 

"Jade!" he began. But he couldn't think of anything comforting to say, so instead he reached over and tried to hug her. 

She brushed him off and turned away, wiping her face and still laughing that strange, high-pitched laugh. "I, I, I don't know what do think about this! This isn't, wow, this isn't how I thought this would go!"

Those were John's feelings exactly. Why was everything so messed up? Karkat was mad at him, there was this weirdness between the two Daves and Jade and Terezi, and now… hey! Why was Kanaya walking away?

"It seems it would be best if I go.” Kanaya spoke even more carefully than usual, looking uncomfortable. “This appears to be a private matter between humans. I do not wish to intrude.”

"Kanaya, wait!" Rose began trailing after her, hesitant, head turning to shoot the others a helpless look. Then, she frowned, and mouthed to John, "Go after her."

"Huh?" For a minute John thought she was talking about Kanaya, but then Rose jerked her head and, following her gaze, John saw a little black speck with two trailing streamers sailing away towards the ship. "Oh no! Jade! Don't go!"

Shooting one more worried glance at Rose, then at Dave, Davesprite, and Terezi, John resolutely launched himself into the sky and took off after his retreating ecto-sister.

“Let me handle this, guys!” John called out over his shoulder. “Don’t worry! We’ll be right back!” And he beat a hasty aerial retreat, leaving an atmosphere of very, very bad vibes behind him.


	2. The Bare Essentials: The Do’s and Don’ts of Everyday Interactions with Trolls

  

Trolls can seem very much like humans, so much, in fact, that it can be easy to forget how completely different they are. Some of these differences are mere social constructs, while others are purely biological, and the two can be difficult if not impossible to disentangle. If your troll partner seems impossible to understand, stop meditate on your good fortune, dear reader, that the two of you are able to communicate or understand one another at all.

~ Rose Lalonde

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Karkat stormed back into his hive, stomping his feet heavily on the floor in a vain attempt to cool his nerves. He really wished he could slam the door behind him, but it slid open and closed like all of the other high-tech doors on the meteor, so he had to content himself by pounding a fist into the wall beside it instead.

Ignoring the sting, he pounded the same curled first into his own forehead. “Shiiit!” He pressed his fist into his forehead for a long moment, before anticlimactically striding over and collapsing into the gigantic pile of his stuff in the middle of the room. “Shit, shit shit, shit, shit.” He muttered the word over and over, like a mantra.

His fist uncurled, but he let it lie against his forehead as he sank down into the pile. The edge of a hardcover novel dug into his thigh, and he kicked it aside, sending a miniature avalanche tumbling down the side of the pile. As if in response, he felt the pile shift and move underneath him. For a terrifying moment he thought the crap in the pile had come to life.

 

“Hey, are you all up and being alright, little motherfucker?” The words floated lazily up from out of the pile of game grubs and coding guides, and Karkat groaned.

“Gamzee! The fuck are you doing in here?”

The pile wriggled around a little more. An arm popped out, zombie-like, and wrapped itself around Karkat’s waist. He glared at it, but made no attempt to escape. Moments later, with a bit more wriggling and shifting of items, a scarred troll face emerged from the depths. 

“Sup?” the face asked, a vapid grin spreading across it. Karkat glared harder. “Hey now, might a brother need to be getting some wicked pale pacification on up in here, or what?” Another hand extricated itself from the pile, scattering a few rogue DVDs, and began stroking the hair on the back of Karkat’s neck. He squirmed in protest, but his muscles began unclench in spite of himself under his moirail’s touch. Relaxation hormones coursed through him, triggered by the gentle skin-on-skin contact.

“Nnn. Stop it. Can’t you see I’m trying to be a miserable piece of shit here?”

“So are you gonna be up and telling me what’s got you all bothered, my Karbro? Or is a brother just gonna have to up and guess?” Gamzee tightened his grip, grin widening. “Hey, it is all being that blue-text human motherfucker? Hmm?”

Karkat stiffened. “No!”

“Aww, I knew it. It is all being that motherfucker, ain’t it?”

"How did you even know he was here?" The only response was a chuckle, leaving Karkat to conclude the worst. Gamzee must still be using his psychic voodoo shit on people, despite repeated warnings. “God fucking dammit, Gamzee!” Karkat pried the arm from around his waist and flung it off, a little harder than he’d meant to. Freed from the grasp, he scrambled up into a sitting position, tucking his knees up against his chest. 

“Don’t be up and fighting the need for a feelings jam.” The highblood clambered up out of the pile to sit beside him, casually throwing an arm around Karkat’s shoulders.

Indeed, feelings jam resistance proved futile. After a minute or two of power-sulking, Karkat growled under his breath and allowed his head to fall onto Gamzee’s shoulder, snuggling into the warmth of the larger troll’s body. “Yeah, okay, it’s John. And Jade, and their whole shipload of insufferable, nubsucking tools. They’re here at long last. You got it right, as usual.” Glancing sidewards, he asked, “How’d you know John was the one bugging me, though? How the fuck do you always pick up on this shit, Gamz?” 

“My palebro, you’re always thinking that I don’t pay attention to all them things you say and do.” The highblood reached up and ruffled his hair a little more, releasing so much relaxation hormone that Karkat might have gone limp and fallen off the pile if Gamzee hadn’t been hugging him close. “But I do, motherfucker. I really do. I always done got my eye on you, y’know? Every minute.”

“That’s honestly the creepiest thing anybody’s ever said to me.”

“Still hating on that little blue fucker after all this time?”

“No. No, I’m not. That’s the thing, Gamzee, I don’t hate him anymore, but, I cannot stop fucking obsessing over him!” Karkat buried his head in his knees. “I thought it was just residual hate, I thought if I went to go see him, maybe, I dunno, I could clear things up in my head? But instead I’m just more confused, about why…” Gamzee resumed his hair stroking, and Karkat shivered and sighed. It was hard to be upset when he did that. Hard to be anything but calm, blissed-out, and a little bit sleepy. 

He almost missed it when Gamzee asked, “Think you’re up and having all new kinds of feelings for him, then?”

“Hmm?” Karkat’s eyelids were drooping. “Ah, dunno, maybe…” He hadn’t slept in a considerable amount of time. The nightmares had been worse than usual, lately. Maybe he could just… close his eyes for a little while… and… 

The question sank in. Karkat twitched and sat up ramrod-straight. “Gamzee! God! Seriously, what makes you think I would be that stupid?”

Gamzee unsheathed one claw and scratched it lightly against the tip of one of Karkat’s horns, making him jump. “Ahahaa, can’t fool me, bro.” He gave a conspiratorial wink.  

“Asshole!” Karkat shoved him, but it was like shoving rock. He couldn’t get the lanky highblood to move an inch.

Gamzee placed his chin on Karkat’s shoulder and continued running long fingers through his hair. “Now look, your deal ain’t so hard to understand. Them soft little pink-skinned critters? Damn, lemme tell you something, they’re just about as pitiful as fuck.”

“No shit. Why do you think the other idiots on this meteor keep throwing themselves at the humans like purrbeasts in heat?” Angrily, Karkat reached up and yanked his hood up over his head to ward off Gamzee’s hair-petting. In a barely audible voice, he added, “I am included among those idiots. I am pretty much the biggest idiot. Karkat Vantas, King of the Idiots, that’s me. Somebody ought to put a fucking crown on my head and a scepter in my hand already.”

“Shoosh. You ain’t no idiot, bro.” Gamzee continued his petting through the fabric of the hood. “I mean, it’s only natural to pity what’s all up and being pitiful and shit, am I not right?” Gamzee prodded the side of his face with one finger. “So what’s he all being like, blue boy? Soft and squishy-looking as the others?”

“Squishier. Taller than Rose and Dave, but he doesn’t have that sharp look to him that they have.” Karkat sighed and dug his claws into the knees of his jeans. “I'd be afraid to touch him. He looks like he’d bleed if I did this.” He pressed a single pointed nail into Gamzee's arm. The highblood's skin was even more resilient than Karkat's. It didn't even wrinkle. “He’s lucky I don’t hate him anymore, he’d have made the shittiest kismesis. Probably shatter like glass at the slightest touch.”

“Mmhm.” Gamzee gave him a probing look. “You wanna protect him, ‘cause of that.”

Karkat swallowed. He looked up at Gamzee, then down at the floor. “Um. Yeah, I guess.” A scowl appeared on his face. “But what does it matter? He probably hates me now, in that weird, fucked-up human way!” He buried his face again. “If he doesn’t, he will. He should. He has every reason to. Shit, Gamzee, I never got to apologize to him. I couldn’t even face him, I ran away sniveling like a ‘coon-wetting wiggler.”

The way he was positioned, every inch of Karkat’s bare skin was hidden under clothing. Gamzee had to squeeze a hand between his moirail’s face and his knees before he could find a wrist to massage, releasing more relaxation hormone. “Shoooosh. You’ll get another chance. ‘Kay? Whether he likes it or not, little blue motherfucker is stuck being here with us now, on this motherfucking meteor what ain’t all up and being very motherfucking big. You’ll run into him again, then you can be telling him that you’re sorry,” Gamzee smirked, “and whatever else you’re all up and feeling at where your heart’s at.”

“C’mon, Gamz. We’re moirails, you’re supposed to tell me when I’m being a complete and utter dipshit ignoramus. John’s human-sexual, remember? He can’t return my feelings.”

“Ah. That's right.” Gamzee withdrew his hand to rub his chin ponderously. “Well, y’know what? You should tell him anyway. ‘Cause, like, who knows? Purple-text girlie went and changed her mind for our jadeblood sister, didn’t she? Little blue fucker could maybe change his mind too.”

“I don’t know if it works that way.” Karkat slowly raised his head, sitting his chin on his knees. He exhaled through his nose and peered up, frustration etching a series of lines between his nose and eyebrows. Gamzee reached under his hood and smoothed his fingers across the smaller troll’s brow.

“You need to be up and getting your positivity on, brother.” Gamzee smiled. “Hey. Worst comes to worst, maybe you and little blue fucker could be human friends.”

Karkat blinked. “I think we already are? Or, were?” He shook his head slowly. “Fuck, that’s another thing I don’t get. Human friendship is totally different than troll friendship.”

“Totally different.” Gamzee nodded. “Better.”

“I don’t know about—"

“Yeah. I think it’s better.” Gamzee cut him off. "It's a huge load off not to have to worry about your friends stabbing you in the back. And to never even think about doing that thing yourself." He sighed. "Different. Better."

Karkat shrugged and cringed inwardly as he caught a glimpse of regret on Gamzee's face. If only he'd been there for him earlier. Maybe… 

He rested his head back on his moirail's shoulder, and the two were quiet for a while. Karkat refused to allow himself to fall sleep. Though the horrorterror dreams no longer plagued him, he still had guilty dreams. Those were even worse. Instead of monsters, now he was jerked rudely awake by pangs of conscience, images of dead friends, an entire dead species, leaving him broken and whimpering to himself in his recuperacoon like a post-grub recently graduated from his Trials. 

Needless to say, he still wasn't sleeping much. The trolls had been out of sopor slime for three years now. _Three fucking years_ , and they’d never figured out how to alchemize more. At this point they'd all pretty much given up on ever getting a good night's sleep again.

"You should go find him, bro.” Gamzee’s voice roused Karkat from his stupor.

“Mmhh?” he replied, the very picture of alertness and comprehension.

"Blue fucker. He's alone with the sis who types all sopor-pie-colored right now. She seems pretty chill, I bet she'd up and give you some space to jam with him alone if you'd be up and asking all nice-like."

"Gamz." Karkat gritted his teeth. "Seriously, the doucheclown mind-reading tricks. I thought I told you to fucking stop tha—" Horrified, he felt what only be described as ghostly fingertips, playfully tickling at the inside of his skull. “Holy shit! You're doing it to me right now, aren't you?"

There was only a dry chuckle in return. Supremely creeped out, Karkat disentangled himself from Gamzee before the jackass could attempt to pap him full of hormones again and make him any sleepier. He took a swan dive off the pile, and managed to get his legs under him by executing an acrobatic half-flip, sticking the landing masterfully.

“Gonna go see him?” Not bothering to get up off his ass, the lanky troll simply lifted his uncombed head and gazed down at the smaller troll, grinning like a moron.

“Yes.” Karkat scowled. “But don’t get any grubshitting ideas lodged in your vacant thinkpan, okay? I’m not planning a full-on confession jam or any of that shit. This is not _In Which a Previously Spurned Lowblood Reunites with His Concupiscent Interest After Several Sweeps, Only to Discover That He Has Had a Change of Heart and Now Eagerly Responds to the Lowblood’s Advances, Which After Seven On-Screen Battle Scenes and Two Comedic Beheadings Results in a Happily Ever After Scenario For All Involved Parties_.”

“You haven’t watched that one in awhile.”

“Argh, of course I fucking haven’t!” Karkat exploded, grabbing his head with both hands. “Why would I? Why would I want to watch what is essentially a painful reminder of everything I want and can’t have?”

Gamzee said nothing. Karkat slowly lowered his arms to his sides, trying to calm down. “There’s just… something I need to tell him.” Karkat swallowed, fighting hesitation. “I need to talk to him about it before anyone else does. It’s important.”

“Ah. Vriska.”

“Vriska.” Karkat turned, trying not to drag his feet, trying to avoid the temptation to throw himself back onto the pile and allow Gamzee to shooshpap him to sleep.

John needed to hear this. He needed to hear it from him.

Karkat pressed his palm against the doorpad, skinny frame tensing under layers of clothes as the door whooshed open and the cold air outside his block greeted him with a frosty kiss. Muttering, “Dammit,” he shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket, rallied his courage. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could head back to his pile, and maybe succumb to sleep at long last. 

“The very best of luck, my choicest of invertebrothers.” 

Karkat wasn’t feeling all that lucky, but he begrudgingly flashed half of the “diamonds” sign behind his back with two fingers just before the door closed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory feelings jam chapter. Haha this came out cuter than I'd hoped, but at this point I was more concerned with trying to draw the illustration in the middle of a crowded Starbucks. (Long story...) Next few chapters will be longer and will eventually contain more of John and Karkat actually interacting. Promise. I also have some bird's eyes diagrams of John's and Karkat's made-up rooms on the meteor, which I'll post on my tumblr at some point in the near future maybe. (ie after Anime Boston).


	3. What is a Troll? A Brief Discussion of the Troll Life Cycle, Evolution, and Anatomy, Before We Get Into the Psychology

 

 

 Though outwardly they appear very similar to humans, troll evolutionary history, internal anatomy, senses, skeletal structure—basically everything is different from you, dear human reader. Empathy is the key to any relationship, and it’s impossible to empathize with someone whose basic life needs and instincts you don’t understand. Herein I will attempt to underline the many ways trolls are completely different from you, and how that effects literally every interaction you’ll have with your partner. This chapter will also highlight the important differences of humans that trolls need to know. Talk with your partner about these to avoid any surprises, especially of the emotionally or physically painful variety.

  

 

~ Rose Lalonde

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

Eventually, John was able to coax Jade off the ship. It took just about forever, but after a long, long, looong bout of pleading, he managed to convince her that maybe, just maybe, it was a little unfair of her to be mad at Dave for seeing “other women” during the interim. After all, how could current-timeline Dave have had any idea that one of his alternate-timeline-selves was dating Jade? They’d been out of communication for three years. All sort of things could happen in three years. People got bored and lonely, and maybe even a little bit desperate. They’d work it all out, though, surely. Right? Right.

Jade hadn’t seemed entirely convinced, but she’d agreed at the very least to come down from the ship with John. Her head hung low, fluffy ears drooping, and she occasionally heaved a long, mournful sigh. At least she was no longer fighting back tears. “I still can’t believe I did that.” Jade moaned as they walked down the ramp, John’s arm over her shoulders protectively. “Throwing a temper tantrum? What am I, four years old? Argh, I’m such a dumb, dumb, stupid idiot!”

“No you’re not!” John squeezed her shoulder. “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, Karkat threw a temper tantrum and ran off, too!”

“Oh my God, color me completely unsurprised. That boy is suuuch a draaama queeeen!”

“Haha, yeah, I know!” This made John feel a little bit better about what had happened. Karkat _was_ a drama queen, that was just fact. It was totally in character for him to make a big deal out of nothing and storm off to go sulk in his room. He'd be back, right?

John’s computer glasses blinked, and he tapped to accept the incoming message. Somebody was pestering him.

 

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at ??:??

 

TG: hey man did you find jade

TG: is she ok

TG: i feel kind of like a huge piece of shit right now

TG: the biggest of shits

TG: tell her i said im sorry

EB: i found her! yeah, she’s ok.

EB: she just wasn’t, you know, expecting

 

John couldn’t keep typing, because Jade was grabbing his sleeve, craning her neck as she tried to read text that was flipped backwards from her perspective. “Hey! Is that Dave? Is Dave pestering you?”

John shielded his conversation with his hand, turning his head to the side. “Yeah, he’s just asking if you’re ok. Lemme talk to him for a minute, okay? Bro-to-bro.”

“Whatever.” Jade snorted, muttering under her breath, “Boys!”

 

TG: expecting what

TG: that dave strider wasnt gonna hook up with a smokin hot space mama if given half a chance

TG: that dave strider was some kind of real-life psychic who knows everything about everybodys relationships in every dimension

TG: hang on a sec terezi my amour senses are tingling

TG: oh shit

TG: sorry babe looks like i cant go out with you

TG: it appears that my alternate feather-self is currently fucking around with somebody else

TG: tough break but whatcha gonna do 

TG: apparently he is the boss of me

EB: dave, cool it!

EB: i think all of you are probably overreacting, honestly!

EB: we all just need to sit down, and talk this over like reasonable adults. okay?

EB: i’m sure we can figure something out!

TG: well sure 

TG: thats a cinch for you to say bro

TG: have you even dated anybody yet

TG: oh shit you didn’t even have anybody on the ship to date

TG: unless it turns out you secretly have a thing for nakkodiles

TG: or chess dudes

TG: is there a special salamander in your life egbert

TG: did little casey grow up super sexy

EB: dave, that’s so inappropriate!

EB: you shouldn’t talk about a man’s daughter that way, even in jest.

EB: she’s my little girl, my pride and joy.

TG: john

TG: shes a lizard

TG: cool your tits dude i was only kidding

EB: i was too :P oh, and casey’s an amphibian, not a lizard. duh, dave.

 

“Geez, what the heck are you guys talking about?” Jade tapped her foot, shifting her weight from side to side. “Are we ready to get going, or what?”

“Oh yeah,” John said, sheepish. “Sorry. Lemme just find out where we should meet up.”

 

EB: so anyway, we’re heading back now!

EB: where should we meet up?

EB: is there somewhere we can hang out and have a nice, long chat?

TG: yeah boy

TG: ill get terezi to do her plaintiff voice 

TG: human time is now in session

TG: we can build a fort and put up a humans only sign 

TG: no trolls allowed

EB: oh, um, i didn’t mean to keep anybody out!

TG: nah its cool

TG: the gray kids will understand

TG: three years is a long time to be separated from the last remaining members of your species

TG: we gotta throw us a big humans night out party

EB: haha. well, as long as nobody’s feelings get hurt.

EB: i want to meet up with vriska right afterwards, though! mustn’t keep a lady waiting. ;)

EB: oh, and karkat too. so i can hear whatever it was he was trying to tell me earlier.

TG: … 

TG: yeah uh

TG: look we need to talk about that too

TG: head to the main lab and take the first left

TG: rose and i are gonna kick the alchemiter in gear and cook up some grub

TG: and by grub i mean the not-disgusting human kind of grub

TG: not that grossout nasty shit trolls eat

EB: dave, i’ll go anywhere you want, as long as there’s air conditioning.

 

EB: please tell me there’s air conditioning!

 

 

 

“Yes, please!” Jade agreed. She was openly reading John’s conversation now, John having given up on blocking her out. She was fanning herself with her hand, looking sweaty and uncomfortable in her full god tier dress and stockings.

 

 

TG: no worries my man

TG: we can adjust the thermostats differently in individual rooms

TG: humans get the cool rooms

TG: trolls get their own personal motherfuckin saunas

TG: everybodys happy

TG: cept those of us rooming with trolls

EB: huh?

 

EB: oh man, i think jade’s going to start biting my ankle if i take any longer.

 

EB: anyway, sounds good! save us a couple of the cool rooms!

 

EB: on our way, peace out!

TG: ciao

 

 

John switched his glasses off, smiling at Jade. “Shall we?”

 

“Let’s.”

 

Taking his ectosibling’s arm, John guided her in the direction of the main lab. The main lab… that was probably the biggest one, right? He hoped that was right, Dave’s directions hadn’t actually been very informative. 

 

A dark shape, resolving into a small, black-hooded figure, appeared from out of the shadows. Stepping into their path, he stretched out both orange-clawed hands to block their way.

 

“Whoa!” John yelped, jumping back.

 

“Whoa!” Jade agreed, voice squeaking. “Who’s that?

 

 

At the same time Jade was speaking, John blurted, “Oh, um, hi Karkat!” as he was now able to discern the telltale sideways “69” symbol, and the tiny, fire-colored horns peeking from twin holes in the top of the hood. He’d snuck up on them so quietly! John was still nervous after their first encounter. What did he want, anyway? Jade, however, was much less doubtful.

 

“KARKAT!” She squealed, clasping her hands together in abject glee. “Holy shit, is that really you? No way you’re that tiny! C’mere you little jerk!” She reached out to hug him, but he sidestepped her, eyes widening into bright yellow circles that shone like cat eyes in the dark.

 

“Harley.” His voice sounded dry and weary, which was strange. John had imagined he would be much… well, louder. “Hey, no, stop. Quit fucking around, this isn’t—”

 

“C’mon!” Jade giggled, reaching out again, “it’s been sooo long since we bickered and called each other dumb names, I was starting to miss it! Argh, hold still and let me hug you, assbreath!”

 

Karkat sidestepped her again, looking like a deer in the headlights. “Just hold your fucking hoofbeasts you turbocharged she-spazz, shit, I am really not in the mood for hugging right now.” Words poured from the troll’s mouth at an impressive speed. His English was obviously well-practiced, he had a much lighter accent than Kanaya or Terezi. “I need to talk to Egbert for a minute, okay? It’s important.”

 

“Me?” John raised his eyebrows in surprise, although he felt silly when he remembered that that was exactly the same thing the troll had said earlier. That time, he’d just said it in Alternian. And probably a lot less politely, since he’d been talking to Dave.

 

“Yeah.” The troll licked his lips, a flash of triangular teeth against gray tongue. “There’s something I need to tell you. Alone.”

 

“Err... Can’t it wait?” Jade looked at John, worried.

 

“No, it really can’t!” Karkat’s voice got extra-growly on the ‘really.’ “It’s important. Just give me a minute with him, will you?”

 

Wide-eyed, Jade said, “Oh. Well, that’s fine. Okay.” She looked meaningfully at her ectobrother as if to ask, _Sure you want to be left alone with him?_

 

John wasn’t sure, but. He couldn’t just say no. He really didn’t want to start any more fights on this meteor. “Yeah, I’ll hear what he has to say.” John nodded, forcing a little smile. “Are you alright to go by yourself, Jade?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, John, really. No big deal. You can catch up with me and the rest of the human party in a bit!” Jade forced a smile of her own, and turned to go, though she was still looking over her shoulder for some kind of confirmation from John. Sighing inwardly, he nodded at her, and she gave one more big, forced smile and a wave. Then, she lifted off and flew away in the direction of the main lab. 

 

John turned back to Karkat, and swallowed, nervous at the intensity of the troll’s expression. “Heh heh, so, um. What’s so important?”

 

Karkat closed his eyes tightly, then opened them. He looked just as anxious as the boy felt, playing with his sweatshirt sleeves, fidgeting. Finally he said, in a voice smaller than John could have ever imagined Karkat capable of speaking in, “Vriska’s dead.”

 

John gaped. 

 

“Oh my God, what?”

 

“She’s dead,” Karkat repeated softly. He switched back into rapid-fire-mode. “Five more of our numbers are down too. Gamzee, Terezi, Kanaya, and myself are the only trolls left on this meteor. Sollux and Aradia are alive, well, kind of, but they decamped and went to go wander the dream bubbles, and who knows when the hell they’ll ever be back. Anyway, I don’t know which trolls you may have talked to besides Vriska and myself, but—”

 

“Oh, oh my gosh, I remember Vriska telling me she killed that kind of sad rapper guy that Dave always talked to? Tavros? Was that his name?”

 

“Yes. Tavros’ death started this whole thing.”

 

“And… oh my God. That, that sort of weird guy who wrote in blue and liked horses? And, um, that funny, happy girl who roleplayed with Jade? And the boy and girl who wrote in purple and used bad fish puns?”

 

“Equius, Nepeta, Eridan, and Feferi. All dead.” 

 

“Oh. Oh, no,” John moaned. “Shit. I, I knew you lost a few, but. That's so many." Feeling like he’d been punched in the gut, he asked, "Did she… did Vriska kill them all?”

 

“What? No.” Karkat cast his eyes to the side, stepping back. “No, it’s my fault. Don’t blame her, all of it’s my fault.”

 

“What? I-I don’t understand, how is it your fault?” John asked. “Wait, you didn’t kill them, did you?”

 

Karkat didn’t look like he was capable of killing a fly at the moment, drooping, half-hidden in shadow, hood shrouding the upper half of his face. But still, John knew that trolls could be violent and unpredictable. Karkat had told him so himself. He also remembered Karkat scaling a wall like some kind of squirrel-man, remembered the teeth and claws. 

 

Karkat blew up suddenly. He started shouting, voice rising steadily in volume, vibrating with an undercurrent of snarls. “No, but I might as well have! There was infighting, and I couldn’t contain it. I was a shitty leader, I fucked everything up for everybody, even you humans—!”

 

“Karkat, stop!” John’s eyes were burning, he couldn’t believe it. “Tell me, how, how did Vriska die? Please, t-the truth...”

 

“Terezi had to do it.”

 

“Terezi?”

 

“Dammit, I didn’t even want to tell you this, but I guess you should hear it from me. Yes, so, Vriska killed Tavros. She was going to get us all killed, one way or the other, okay? That’s the truth. Terezi has that thing where she can see the paths of fate, and the only path that didn’t lead to a future in which all of us were dead was the one where Vriska died instead.”

 

John was trying hard to be calm, but he couldn’t contain a sob. Karkat stepped forward and clamped a hand down on the boy's shoulder, shaking him to punctuate his sentences as he spoke quickly. “She was out of control, Terezi did the only thing she could do. They were wigglerhood friends, and Terezi’s heartbroken. Don’t blame her. She did what she had to do. What I should have done.” The look in Karkat’s slitted, deep yellow eyes was frightening in its severity. “Blame me if you have to blame someone, okay? It’s my fault, they’d all be alive if I’d just been able to keep them under control.”

 

John felt tremors running through the clawed hand on his shoulder, and that turned out to be all he needed to regain control of himself. He removed the hand, gently, sniffing away his tears, drawing himself up. “Karkat, it’s not your fault. You can’t take the blame for what other people do!”

 

“I’m… I was their leader. That’s exactly what a leader is supposed to do, John.”

 

“No! That’s not fair, you can’t do that to yourself!”

 

“Yes I can.” Karkat sagged. He looked beaten, tired. “It’s the only thing I can do. Anyway, go spread the word to the new arrivals: 'Karkat’s the fucking dipshit to blame for getting half of everybody killed.' The sooner everybody realizes that they should hate me as much as I hate myself, the better.”

 

He turned to go. John’s mouth opened on its own accord, and what came out was exactly the wrong thing he could have said just then. “Well, I don’t hate you!”

 

Karkat froze, and John wanted to kick himself when he realized what he’d just said. 

 

“Yeah, I know you don’t hate me,” the troll mumbled, not turning back around, though he definitely sagged a little more. “Whatever, who cares. Doesn’t matter. Even if you could have feelings for me, and did, I wouldn’t deserve that anyway.”

 

“No, shit, I didn’t mean—Karkat, wait!”

 

Karkat didn’t wait, he’d reached a transportalizer, stepped onto it, and disappeared with a sharp _pop_ and a burst of light. John was left with tears running down his face, feeling helpless and empty.

 

It was even worse when he realized he’d have to be the one to tell Jade and Davesprite what he’d just learned.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo learned how to make pesterlogs. Tried out imgur instead of photobucket too, it compresses the images a lot less! I might go back and redo the images in the previous chapters so they'll look less blurry.  
> Anyway, just a short chapter with one picture this time. Next one is gonna contain the obligatory sexuality realizations and some cute friendship. Also more pictures. Stay tuned.


	4. Violence as a Way of Life

 

Though it may come across as morbid, perhaps depressingly so, broaching this topic may be the most appropriate way to start off the psychology section. If your intent is to reach some form of empathy with your troll partner, it is of the utmost importance that this material be covered thoroughly, accepted, understood, embraced. It is no secret, dear reader, that trolls have an inborn tendency towards violence, marked enough to be a defining trait. It is apparent in the construction of their bodies: taller, faster, more armored, leaner, and overall more efficient than ours. Truly, it can be said that violence has shaped trollkind as a race more than any other factor. The effect of violence as a way of life is twofold, however. While your partner might be quick to lash out in many situations—usually in what they interpret to be self-defense, mind you!—you’ll find that countermeasures against such knee-jerk reactions are written everywhere into troll psychology and by extension, troll culture. Though you may initially be put off by your partner’s acceptance of violence as a way of life, don’t assume that they are in favor of it. Among trolls, you’ll often find the opposing sentiments are more prevalent, much the way we humans feel about reality TV and other terrible but extremely prevalent aspects of our own culture and society. 

 

~ Rose Lalonde

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

John had read all of his pesterlogs over and over again during the three-year trip, for lack of anything better to do. In particular, he’d enjoyed puzzling over the mysteries. The biggest challenge of all had been trying to get to know the trolls better. 

He'd pulled up Karkat’s lengthy rants about troll romance, which he’d previously skimmed without absorbing, re-reading them all in hope of better understanding his relationship with Vriska. Instead, he’d inadvertently started to understand just how badly he’d been misunderstanding his relationship with Karkat. 

What he’d taken at first to be hate—human-style, platonic-type hate—he now understood to be a form of flirting. Pretty unambiguous flirting, from a troll’s standpoint. Hate-flirting. He’d taken the fact that Karkat had started treating him more civilly in their final conversations to be a sign of their relationship improving, but now he realized, from Karkat’s point of view, it must have been more like the exact opposite. 

He was still confused by the whole thing. How the heck was a guy supposed to tell the difference between platonic hate and romantic hate? Trolls were so hard to understand! 

Duh. Of course they were. They were aliens, it was amazing that the two species could interpret each other's feeling and behavior at all, even a little bit. John had started to worry when he realized that he wasn’t even sure whether Vriska’s interest in him was romantic or platonic, from a human perspective. Investigating further, the only thing John had been able to surmise was that Vriska’s feelings for him were probably not of the “black” variety. They could’ve been “red”… that’s what John had been thinking. Hoping. But, all the same, they could just as easily have been “pale.” Or maybe even “ashen,” John didn’t really understand quadrants very well. Maybe Karkat was right, maybe human thinkpans just weren’t equipped to deal with quadrants.

He still felt really bad about his big screwup. All those pesterlogs, and he’d been totally oblivious to what must have seemed to Karkat like really blatant, crystal-clear caliginous advances. And at the end of it all, in John’s timeline anyway, the troll had basically come out and done the equivalent of declaring his love for John. And John, not realizing, had in turn completely blown him off with, “Derp, sorry bro, not a homosexual!”

Which, upon some serious re-examination, had turned out to be… not even entirely true. Jade, of all people, had helped him figure that out. And, boy, had that conversation ever been embarrassing. 

It had gone like this...

 

*   *   *

 

“Are you seriously watching _Contact_ again?” Jade poked her head into the living room of John’s former home, now serving as the ship-dweller’s home theater.

“Shush! Matthew McConaughey is amazing, and you know it.”

“Eh, this isn’t his best role.” Jade jumped onto the couch beside him, snuggling into the pillows. “But sure, he’s pretty cute!”

“Pretty cute? He’s a bona fide hunk Jade. You totally think so. I know because you’re my ecto-slimed-based-clone-sister, and I know all of your thoughts, all of them.”

“No you don’t, because I wouldn’t say ‘total hunk.' That’s something only you would say. Because you’re in guy-love with Matthew McConaughey.”

“Jade, I am not in guy-love, that’s gross.”

“Wow John, homophobic much? You know what they say about homophobes. Ehehe!”

“I am not a homophobe, I’m just a not-a-homosexual. There’s a pretty big difference between being a homophobe and being a not-a-homosexual.”

Jade snatched away his popcorn bowl, and popped a single piece into her mouth, crunching thoughtfully. “Hey, John. Did you by any chance say those exact words to Karkat, at some point?”

“Uhh. Now that you mention it.” John reached to grab a handful of popcorn from her. “I think I did say something like that once. Why?”

Jade smirked. “Because, John, he later came to me all, 'Harley, you need to explain to me what a ‘not-a-homosexual’ is, RIGHT NOW!'”

“What!” John threw his handful of popcorn at her. She giggled and froze the pieces in midair with her space powers. Undaunted by her casual defiance of the laws of physics, John continued, “I sure hope you replied, ‘John Egbert,’ because that fiasco was a whole avenue of weird that I do not want to journey down ever again. Ugggh!” He hesitated. “Um, that is to say, not that I’m being a homophobe or whatever, because that’s totally not what I mean by ‘ugggh.’ I just mean… ugggh. In a different kind of way. A not-homophobic kind of way.”

“Fiasco?” Jade’s eyebrows lifted, dog ears perking up. “Which fiasco are we talking about here, exactly?”

“The Karkat-hitting-on-me fiasco, that’s which one!” John ground his palms into his forehead. “Hence the ‘uggh.’ Because seriously, just, no.”

“Ahaha, no way!” Jade started to laugh so hard that she lost control over the floating pieces of popcorn, causing them to rain down all over the couch. “He was hitting on you, too?”

“Um, wait. Hold the phone.” John brushed the popcorn off his pants. “He was hitting on _you_?”

“Yes, totally!” 

John made a face. “Wow, that’s sort of creepy!”

“No, it’s completely understandable. We are Team Egbert/Harley, the hottest pair of ectosibs this side of paradox space. Our collective milkshakes bring all the awkward teenage alien boys to the yellow yard.”

“Jade, no. Stop. Time out.” John made a “t” shape with his hands. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said, I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Anyway, you totally have a thing for Matthew McConaughey, right?” Jade pointed at the actor on the screen, then started poking John's shoulder, lips curled in a teasing smile. “C’mon, just admit it. You think he’s cute, and you like boys. Admit it and get on with your life.”

“Jade! I do not like boys. I just happen to think that he and Jodie Foster make a good couple in this movie, that’s all.”

“Yeah sure, but you don’t go gaga over Foster the way you do over McConaughey, John.”

“Well, that’s just because I think he’s a great actor!”

“With a great ass. A great ass that you were totally staring at when I walked in.”

“I was not!”

“You were too!”

“Was not!”

“Were too!”

“Was not times a thousand and fifty-seven and Jodie Foster is a girl and I definitely think she's hot, so there!”

“Were too, and John, you know it’s alright to like boys and girls, right? Like, bisexuality totally a thing, and there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Was no—wait, hold on, what?”

 

*   *   *

 

Over the next couple of weeks, Jade had continued to tease out hints that John wasn’t being as honest with himself about his sexuality as he could’ve been. Frustratingly enough, whenever he’d tried to argue with her she’d insist he was being “overly defensive,” which only supported her case. There was simply no getting through to her! But, after a while, John himself started wondering whether, maybe, the fact that he sometimes felt a little bit attracted to Davesprite, in a not-entirely-ironic way, might have been a hint that something was up.

Okay, and maybe the fact that he always found himself rewinding that one sex scene in The _Matrix: Revolutions_ specifically so he could jerk off to Keanu Reeves, nude, covered in all those cool alien nipple-things… yeah, that was probably a dead giveaway. 

“Oh come the heck on, John!” Jade had cried out after walking in on him without knocking one day. Ducking under the pillow he’d hurled at her in his frantic attempt to cover his shame, she’d added, exasperated, “Keanu Reeves isn’t even a good actor!”

Anyway, yeah. It turned out that John had a thing for both dudes andchicks. And alien nipple-thingies. So sue him! It wasn’t his fault. John blamed the ectobiology that’d made him. Heck, sometimes he blamed Karkat. The troll had been the one responsible for creating his entire universe! Who knew, maybe he'd somehow subconsciously made John this way, to be his perfect, fated kismesis.

Except, John didn’t have any kind of hate-feelings for Karkat whatsoever. So much for that theory!

He hadn’t had any kind of feelings for Karkat before meeting him at all, really, unless you counted feeling sort of sorry for him. He couldn't help but sympathize with all of the trolls, even the mean ones, once he’d come to understand the predicament that they were in. Especially when John had thought that he and his friends had inadvertently caused it!

He’d mostly been worried for Vriska’s safety, at the time. But, Vriska was gone, and Karkat was still here, blaming himself for that. And that, John thought, was really not cool.

 

*   *   *

 

John waited and fretted for so long that by the time he got around to finding the main lab (not the biggest one, go figure), and locating the room they were supposed to be meeting in (not even on the left, what the heck, Dave) Jade and Davesprite had already heard the news. 

He knew it as soon as he walked in the door. Jade’s dog ear were flat against the top of her head and she was whimpering again, Davesprite, feathers puffed up, was flitting around the room in an agitated manner, and Rose and Dave just stood quietly off to the side, looking downcast and guilt-ridden.

Immediately after setting foot in the room, John found himself gathered up into Rose’s arms. Mere seconds after that, all five humans—well, four humans and one half-boy, half-bird-ghost-thing—were entangled together in another group hug. It was a sad group hug this time, punctuated by sniffles and comforting pats on the back. John grew teary-eyed, too. He was unable to handle Jade’s sobs, unable to bear the soft murmurs of, “Sorry, John,” “Really sorry about Vriska.” Having all this attention focused on him felt really awkward. He hated it and sort of wished it would stop, but at the same time he desperately didn’t want to be left alone with his grief, either. So, he endured. 

Throughout it all, John found himself wishing Karkat was there to be hugged, too. Of everybody, the ornery little troll had looked like he needed a hug pretty desperately. Did trolls hug? Or was that just a human thing? Terezi had been pretty gung-ho about it earlier, but Kanaya, not so much. Hmm.

Eventually, the gloomy human hug rumpus ended with them all sprawled out on the floor, Davesprite still hugging Jade, human Dave looking uneasy all by himself, and Rose staring at John as if trying to broadcast a whole year’s worth of psychotherapy through the air, directly into his brain.

“Well. Glad we got that over with.” Dave broke the silence as he stood, stretched, and dusted his pants off. “Guess there ain’t nothing left to do now but get this corpse party started, human-style. Who’s handling the food alchemization?”

“Corpse party?” Jade stumbled to her feet, rubbing her eyes. “The hell does that mean?”

Rose smiled sadly as she, too, stood. “Just a bit of a morbid inside joke, I suppose.” Making her way towards a sizable alchemiter in the corner of the room, she began fiddling with dials as she explained, “It’s a shame you weren’t able to meet Sollux and Aradia. They departed shortly after Dave and I arrived on the meteor.” A stack of luxurious glass plates and cups appeared. “Aradia was very interested in human culture, particularly our ‘corpse parties’—her interpretation of our funerals.”

“So, what? Trolls don’t do funerals?” Davesprite asked, fluttering his wings until he’d lifted up to his version of “standing.”

“Nope.” Dave began to arrange the alchemized dishware around a large wooden box that was roughly the size and shape of a table. “They’re not down with the whole ‘burying your dead’ deal. Trolls die all the time. Nobody in their society really gives two fucks.”

“That’s so sad!” Jade frowned hard, raising both hands as she used her space powers to set up chairs around the table, materializing them one by one.

“Yeah. Vriska told me some pretty depressing stuff about troll society.” John pretended not to notice how everyone flinched at the mention of Vriska. “Aren’t they really violent and stuff, too?” He took a handful of silverware—real silver!—from Rose, and began helping Dave and Jade set the table, while a set of taper candles appeared in midair and set themselves down, lighting up spontaneously as they landed. “Did the other trolls give you and Rose any trouble over the past three years?”

“Sometimes. Nothing Lalonde and I couldn’t handle,” Dave replied. John found this maddeningly uninformative.

“But, Terezi and Kanaya seem nice!” A bit of optimism returned to Jade's voice as she set the last chair in place. “Karkat too! In his jerkbutt sort of way.”

“Karkat?” Rose handed Jade an armful of crystal wine glasses. “He and Gamzee haven’t been around much. Karkat used to circulate more, but he seems to have been purposefully avoiding the rest of us as of late. When did you see him?”

“He caught up to us on our way here.” Jade was using her space powers to float the wine glasses to the table, setting each one in place with a careful _clink_. “That’s why John was late, Karkat said he wanted to talk to him alone. Oh yeah! What did you guys talk about, John?”

John set down the last ornate butter knife, biting his lower lip. He decided not to bring Vriska up again. That was too sad. “You know, just, stuff. Um, I mean, he apologized! Or, at least, he was trying to apologize. I think.”

Jade giggled to herself. Noticing everybody looking at her, she smiled, sheepish. “Sorry, I was just remembering the time when Karkat tried to apologize to me, too! Hehehe! He was SO bad at it! It was the funniest thing I’ve ever read, he’s such a ridiculous troll!”

“You’re telling me,” Dave said, and John felt the atmosphere in the room improve as chuckling filled the air, wry smiles appearing on everyone’s faces. John joined in, even though it occurred to him that the attempt at an apology he’d received from Karkat had been a lot more sad than funny.

“John, was that… all he said to you?” Rose quirked one eyebrow upwards in that significant way of hers.

“Um, yeah. More or less?” John also decided not to even bring up the whole ‘you should blame Karkat for everything’ spiel, because that was just stupid! “Why?”

“Y’mean he didn’t declare his undying hate to you?” Dave waggled his eyebrows suggestively in John’s direction. John’s mouth fell into a tight line. He was beginning to deeply resent eyebrows. 

He held up his hands, beseeching. “Whoa. WHOA. Okay, first of all, we totally had that whole discussion already, Karkat and I. Like, before we even got on the ship. It's old news! Water under the bridge! Totally over and done with!” John then turned his hands inward and slapped himself in the face. “Secondly, argh! How do you guys even know about that?”

Dave and Rose laughed, shaking their heads in unison.

“Karkat is about as opaque as glass.” Rose gave a knowing smile.

“Yeah dude, you know what they say about secrets in small towns,” Dave finally managed to get out, and John rolled his eyes at this impressive new feat of vagueness his friends had managed to achieve.

“I’ve been explaining what I know of human psychology and physiology to the trolls,” Rose continued, “including the particulars of sexual orientation.”

“Ooh! Jade’s face lit up. "Did Karkat ask you what a 'not-a-homosexual' is, too?” 

“As a matter of fact,” Rose replied, looking puzzled, “yes?”

“Did you tell him?” Jade giggled. “And, was he mad when he found out my explanation was totally made-up bullshit?” This earned her a conspiratorial smirk from Rose, a pair of high fives from both Daves, and a big scowl from John.

“Jaaade!”

“Sorry! But gosh, he didn't have to be such a gigantic assbutt about it!” Expression changing to reflect genuine remorse, she added, “Besides, at the time, I didn’t even realize he was asking that because of you!”

Rose came over and patted John’s back. “No need to worry, John. I believe that Karkat and the other trolls at least understand what ‘heterosexuality’ means now, even if they don’t subscribe to it themselves.”

“But,” John blurted out, “I’m not a heterosexual!”

There was a shattering sound as Dave dropped one of the elegant pieces of fancy china. Mouth agape, he made a sound that was the approximation of “Awhaa?”

Much more articulately, though still looking a bit startled, Rose said, “Oh. Interesting.” Finishing up the latest alchemization sequence, she pressed a button, and what appeared to be an entire Thanksgiving feast appeared, steaming-hot, on the table. Nodding in satisfaction, she asked John, “So, what are you, then? And, when did this happen, if you don’t mind my asking?”

John lowered his gaze to the floor, embarrassed. “I’m, like, bi or whatever. And, I dunno, I realized it while we were on the ship, I guess?”

“It’s alright, John.” Rose smiled, crossing her arms on the tabletop. “You’re our friend, and we love you the same, regardless of your sexual orientation.” She shot her ecto-brother a stern look, adding, “Right, Dave?”

“Are you kidding? This is perfect.” Dave seemed to have recovered enough from his shock to step over the broken china and give John a big, painfully tight one-armed hug. “You and Vantas can go out on your very first hatedate tomorrow. When we reach the new session, we’ll throw a big hatewedding for you two hatebirds, and alchemize a beautiful black hatecake. All the carapaces and consorts will throw spade-shaped confetti as you walk arm-in-arm down the aisle, and have a big, sloppy hatemakeout in the front of the hatechapel, while the hatepriest gives his hatesermon—”

“Holy shit Dave, stop.” John shoved him away, face turning bright crimson. “I don’t even feel the same way about him, okay?” Burying his face in his hands again, he said, “I don’t hate Karkat, I don’t even understand the whole kismesis thing, and just NO, okay?”

“Shame. I think you two would make a fine caliginous couple,” Rose said, causing John to facepalm even harder.

“Not gonna happen! And, nobody has my permission to attempt any sort of freaky mobius double reacharound interspecies hookups, got it? Nobody. Not even you, Rose.”

“Understood.” Rose's lips pursed slightly.

“Hey.” Davesprite hovered down, waving to get everybody's attention. “So like, is anybody gonna eat this food?”

“Yeah,” alpha Dave chimed in, “can we chow down yet, or do we need to keep discussing the fact that, despite the recent doubling of his metaphorical horizons, Egderp’s love life is still one big void session?”

After a moment's delay, the two coolkids exchanged slow high-fives without looking at each other.

“Gee, thanks, best pals.” John lowered his hands to shoot them both a pout.

“Hey, just messing with you, dude.”

"Yeah man, no hard feelings."

Dave and Davesprite spoke at the same time. The room went silent afterwards. From the looks on their faces, John realized that both Daves were rethinking what they’d just said to him, what it implied about Vriska. This pity party nonsense was driving him nuts.

Collapsing heavily into one of the fancy chairs, he picked up his knife and fork and began shoveling food into his mouth. It… hmm. It was good! Really good, considering that it had been made by splicing other unrelated junk together. The turkey tasted like turkey, the cornbread tasted like cornbread, and heck, who even knew what stuffing was supposed to taste like? John was equal amounts admiring and envius of Rose’s alchemization skills. The meals that he, Jade, and Davesprite had attempted to summon up on the ship had never been this delicious. 

The others quietly joined him after a beat, not wanting to be left out. Rose took a moment to summon a final item, a bottle of sparkling cider. Corkscrewing it open with a loud _pop_ , she began making the rounds to pour drinks.

“Really Rose. Not even gonna alchemize the good stuff?” Dave broke the awkward silence, frowning into his glass of fizzy fruit juice.

“Not just yet. Patience is a virtue, dear ecto-brother.”

“Yeah right, Rose. My ass.” Dave smirked. “Five bucks says you’re hoarding the booze to polish it all off with your girlfriend later.”

“It’s a matter of decorum, Dave. You dare accuse a lady of covetousness?” Rose sniffed, snatching the wine glass out of her ectobrother’s hand and deftly pouring his cider back into the bottle. “I'm saving the champagne for the main course, to toast our new arrivals in proper fashion. For that sass, your cider privileges are hereby revoked.”

“Stingy bitch.”

“Up yours.”

“Um, excuse me?” Jade raised her hand like a meek young student. “This… isn’t the main course?” Her eyes were wide as saucers as she took in the spread before her.

“You kidding? These are the _hors d’oeuvres_.” Dave reached across the table and speared a biscuit, taking a big bite without bothering to remove it from the tines of his fork.

A few moments passed without any talking, as the five friends busied themselves cramming their mouths full of turkey and stuffing. After the friends made short work of the _hors d’oeuvres_ , they were immediately treated to a second, even more decadent meal of glazed ham and mashed potatoes. This course wasn’t polished off as quickly, but polished off it was.

After clearing the table, Rose took a moment to replace the burnt-down candles with fresh ones, and added a fancy crystal chandelier to the ceiling for good measure. After that, continuing to fiddle with the dials, she somehow managed to materialize a lush, elegant carpet beneath the table and chairs. Frowning, she tapped a finger against her chin as she examined the dull steel walls. John could practically see the array of wallpaper swatches cycling through her head.

"Good grief," Dave interrupted finally, "quit messing with that shit. We're going back to the main dining hall tomorrow, so just alchemize a bottle of bubbly or two and sit your ass down." 

"It just occurred to me that the aesthetic of this rather dingy and grim lab interior does not accurately reflect the—"

"No. Stop. Stop this interior decorating madness right this instant. You have a problem.”

"Guys, don't fight!" Jade banged a hand on the table. "This isn't helping… anybody." Her voice wavered on that last word, and she very carefully didn't look in John's direction.

With that, another uncomfortable pause descended. John didn't look up, but he could feel all eyes on him. Talking with a full mouth, he announced, “Hey, it’s alright guys. You don’t have to be all weird about me and Vriska. I mean, you know what I realized? She was sort of a bitch.” He picked up his glass and stared into it, chuckled quietly, then set it back down. “It’s fine, I mean. Yeah. I barely even knew her, anyway.”

No one replied, at first.

Then, hesitant, Dave asked, “You sure, dude?”

John’s eyes were starting to burn again, and he turned his head and gave them a brisk rub, hoping his friends would think he was just tired. “Yeah.”

 

 

*   *   *

 

 

After the humans finished eating, Dave and Rose took John, Jade, and Davesprite to a temporary room. They were surprised to find all of their personal belongings already inside. The restless consorts and carapaces had finished unloading the ship while the humans had been enjoying their dinner.

John felt a twinge of self-reproach. Their excitable companions wanted nothing more than to serve their “heroes.” He hoped he'd be able to live up to their expectations.

“We’ll hook you up with your own rooms tomorrow.” Dave nodded approvingly at John’s big-screen TV, which had been mounted upside-down to the ceiling by an overzealous consort. “Not sure how much longer it’s going to take for us to reach the next session, but there’s no reason you shouldn’t settle in and make yourselves cozy in the meantime.”

“I’ll alchemize some beds so you can sleep in here tonight.” Rose frowned at the untidy pile of John’s DVDs, games, and movie paraphernalia that had been piled up in the corner. “We might have to do a bit of rearranging, but it looks like there’s plenty of room for the three of you.”

“Three? There’s enough room for all five of us!” Jade allowed herself to fall backwards into an analogous pile of her stuffed animals in the other corner. “Let’s spend the night in here together, guys! It’ll be like a big sleepover party!”

“Ah. That sounds… nice,” Rose said, hesitantly. “But…”

“But what?”

Rose blushed a soft pink hue, smiling a little. “Kanaya and I have been sleeping together in the same room for some time now, and I would hate to leave her there alone.” Her smile became strained as she went on. “Like most members of her species, she suffers from highly traumatic nightmares. It’s important that I be there to calm her down.”

Jade slumped into her stuffed animal pile. “Oh.”

“Um.” Dave rubbed the back of his neck, gazing sidewards. “Yeah. Same deal with me and Terezi.”

Jade gave a much quieter, “Oh,” at that, and lowered her gaze to the floor. Looking back up, she began in a hurt tone, “So, I guess you and her are really…”

“Matesprits.” Dave's voice was firm. “Yeah. We use the quirky troll word for it and everything.” He sighed. “Don’t look at me like that, Jade. We'll figure out the Dave dilemma after we've all had some shuteye, okay?”

“I’m not looking at you any way, I just—”

Davesprite fluttered over to the pile her and embraced her with his wings, “Shh, babe, ain’t no big thing. I’m right here. I’ll stay with you, okay?”

John was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. “Hey, look, I can, I can sleep in another room if you guys wanna talk this out or—”

“John, no!” Jade sat up, looking distressed. “We three should stick together!”

“Yeah, I think so too.” Davesprite gave John his usual blank, sunglassed stare.

John had spent a lot of time with Jade and Davesprite, enough that he’d learned to read their expressions pretty well. Jade's pout was saying that she didn't want any more rifts between them. Davepsite’s stare was saying that he didn’t think John ought be left alone right now.

John had never been able to argue with either of them, so after stuffing his hands in his pockets and scuffing his sneakers across the floor a couple of times, he capitulated. “Well. Okay.”

Rose and Dave helped set up the temporary bedroom for them, alchemizing a trio of beds, making sure they had enough blankets and pillows. They helped dig out soap, combs, toothbrushes, and other hygiene items from yet another pile the carapaces and consorts had unceremoniously dumped on the floor. 

When they were done, Dave positioned himself in the center of the room and cleared his throat importantly. “Lemme lay down a few ground rules for tomorrow, before you three go strollin’ off to dreamland.”

John flopped down on one of the beds and gazed up at him. “Rules? What for?”

“These are the rules that’ll keep you on good terms with our friendly neighborhood alien psychopaths. Rule One: Do not go into the trolls’ rooms without their permission. Rule Two: Do not touch the trolls’ personal shit, even if it’s laying all over the floor somewhere, or magically ends up in a treasure chest in your room.”

“Huh?”

“Just… don’t touch their shit. Trust me, you don’t even wanna know what’ll happen.” Dave went on. “Rule Three: Do not eat any of the trolls’ food without permission.”

“So basically, you’re saying they’re territorial?” Comprehension dawned on Jade's face. 

“Bingo.”

“Oh!” Jade twitched her ears, tail flicking from side to side. “Okay, I get that.”

“Jade’s territorial too!” John earned himself a kick from his paradox sibling. “Ow, Jade!”

Speaking above their shenanigans, Dave said, “Rule Four—”

“How many more of these are there?”

“If you keep interrupting, I’m going to give you guys the lecture on troll romance, too.”

“Nooo!”

“As I was saying, Rule Four: Let sleeping trolls lie. Seriously, never, ever, EVER wake up a sleeping troll.” Dave tipped his head down to gaze over the rims of his shades, imparting the seriousness of his request. “Okay, that’s all. Sweet dreams. Can’s down the hall and to the left, try not to do anything stupid and get yourselves killed on the way.”

“Wait!” Jade held up a hand, looking puzzled. "Why shouldn't you wake a sleeping troll? What'll happen?"

“It has to do with what we were discussing earlier. The nightmares,” Rose said. “Trolls are a violent race, and it’s hard for them to contain their aggression when they’re scared and disoriented. I’m afraid trolls’ instincts for self-defense can be rather… potent.”

Goosebumps rose on John's arms. He was pretty sure he didn't want to find out what she meant by that.

After that lecture was done, Rose and Dave told Jade, John, and Davesprite that they’d return in the “morning” to show them the way to the main dining room they shared with the trolls for breakfast. There wasn't really day or night on the meteor, they’d explained, just the unending blackness of the Furthest Ring, punctuated by occasional glimpses of horrorterrors. Dave and Rose told them that even though trolls were normally nocturnal, while humans were normally diurnal, they'd coordinated everyone’s sleep schedules on an artificial cycle of 36-hour “days,” having decided that it made the most sense for everybody to sleep and wake as one. John had been wondering why all of the lights here were so dim! Bright lights must hurt the trolls' eyes. Except Terezi’s. Obviously.

Finally they exchanged goodnights. Rose kissed them each on the forehead, while Dave gave them each a one-armed bro-hug. After the meteor dwellers left, the spaceship travelers dragged their three beds together, lining them up side by side. They then prepared for sleep as they had done a number of times before. Jade and Davesprite settled into the beds on either end, with John sandwiched in the middle. 

As had become routine, John reached out, and took Jade's hand in his. “First one to break the friendship chain is a big-time, all-star, capitol-‘L’ loser!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Davesprite reached from his side of the bed to take John’s other hand in his.

“We know the drill.” Jade gripped John’s hand like a vise and smiled.

It so happened that humans had some pretty bad nightmares, too. When they were feeling stressed, the friends had taken to acting as a bad-dream-lifeline for one another. They could rest easy knowing that if one of them were to awaken in terror during the night, the other two would be immediately alert and available to calm them down with hugs and whispered reassurances. 

The "don’t break the friendship chain game" also gave them something to compete over, and little competitions were about all they'd had to keep them from freaking out from boredom over the three years. 

“Goodnight, Jade and Dave! Erm. I guess I gotta call you Davesprite again.”

“Whatev. G’night Egderp.”

“Hehe, yeah, goodnight ectobro!”

And that was that. One day down. An unknowable number of days to go until they reached the next session.

It figured that John wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. He lay awake, trying and failing to ignore the sounds of his two bedmates murmuring back and forth to one another in hushed undertones. He feigned deep slumber to the best of his ability, making a point to fake-snore loudly and shift his weight to one side or the other, hoping they’d get the message and quiet the heck down.

They didn’t. Jade and Davesprite started arguing again. John caught a few snatches of conversation; as he'd suspected, they were still talking about the double-Dave-paradox-dating-thing. Both parties sounded pretty unhappy. John was pretty unhappy, too. What a mess! How were they ever going to resolve this?

After what felt like ages, the lovers' spat to John’s left petered out and dropped off, and eventually, he did as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LIFE HAPPENED, but I finally got back to this. The next chapter should come pretty quickly now that all the drama has died down. (Whispers the next chapter is finally Johnkat.)


	5. Troll Emotions

 

Now that the unpleasant yet necessary topic of troll violence is out of the way, you may be feeling a bit put out, dear reader. However, you must never forget that your troll partner is just as emotional as you and I. Be sensitive! Be understanding! This chapter will serve as a guide, to the best of this humble author’s knowledge, to the primary differences between human and troll emotional states. Detecting troll emotions. Dealing with troll emotions. Appropriate responses to troll emotions, and, most importantly, how to know when you should help, and when you should run.

~ Rose Lalonde

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Karkat had taken to wandering the darkest, most isolated recesses of the meteor during the final stretches of the three years. He’d needed a break from everyone and everything. Dave and Terezi, along with Rose and Kanaya, had been driving him straight up the metaphorical perpendicular hiveblock privacy partition with their disgusting displays of affection and happiness. Both flushed couples looked so satisfied, so lovey-dovey, so _fucking_ _perfect_ together that Karkat could’ve torn his hair out and screamed.

And, as a matter of fact, he did exactly that on a few rare occasions, deep in the labs, where nobody was around to witness him completely losing his shit. Nobody except Gamzee. The resident mind-reading clownfucker extraordinaire always knew what was going on with his moirail, a fact which irritated said moirail to no end.

Gamzee was another of the many reasons Karkat had taken to wandering. It turned out—big surprise!—that worthless sack of garbage didn’t have one single iota of comprehension of the concept of personal space. Fucker came and went as he pleased, seemingly having made it his new favorite hobby to scare the living shit out of Karkat by suddenly appearing from behind a door, inside a closet, under the couch, or from within a treasure chest. Gamzee was every wiggler’s nightmares personified, the vapid stare, the manic grin, the jagged scars. "Hero of Nightmares,” that should’ve been his game title. Or, "Bard of Scaring People Shitless."

Okay, maybe Karkat was being a little unfair. The highblood had actually been making significant headway in controlling his homicidal tendencies, after three years of feelings jams and daily paps full of pacification hormones. Still, Karkat would never have guessed in a million years that, someday, he’d be in the position of having to explain to a psychotic, bloodthirsty amaranthine why killing your friends was considered bad manners in polite society. Life was funny that way, he guessed. And by “funny,” he meant, “sucked major seedflap.” Yeah, life was pretty much terrible these days.

There were exactly two things that still brought Karkat solace: zoning out in front of the same shitty romcoms that he’d been watching since his wigglerhood, and reading through his Trollian archives for the zillionth time. Since everyone else was sleeping at this hour, and there wasn't really anything to do in the lab depths besides take out his frustrations on the fragile ectobiology equipment, Karkat decided to risk a visit to the computer labs, near the humans’ personal rooms.

To his relief, the lights were off, the room was quiet and empty. Karkat settled into his usual chair. He entered his username and password into his usual computer. For some reason, Karkat had found himself cycling through the old burns Jade had forced him to use as passwords, gems such as, “Karkat is such a crab, he smells like Old Bay.” Ha fucking ha. Because implied lusus cannibalism was SO funny. 

He hoped he'd get the chance to talk with his strange, half-woofbeast human friend again, later. He'd missed her snark.

As Karkat loaded up last session’s settings, an onslaught of Trollian windows chock-full of text popped up on the screen, one after the other, and the troll grimaced at the sight of all those familiar exchanges of blue and gray. He punched in a keyboard shortcut, closing the windows en mass. No point in continuing to pore over those particular exchanges. His shitpanned obsession with John really needed to stop. This was just like his failed undertaking with Terezi, no amount of analysis was going to fix what he'd already ruined. He needed to just accept the fact that John wasn’t interested in him and move on.

Not since the old days, the days before Karkat had fucked things up royally with every single person he cared about, had his habit of reading and rereading his chatlog archives been this fanatical. Back then, he’d convinced himself the habit was strictly to cover his own tracks, fix any mistakes he’d made, learn to better protect the secret of his blood. He’d also told himself that he was searching for potential allies, supporters to back him during his rise through the military ranks. And those excuses had been true, to an extent. But they weren’t the whole story. 

Mostly, he’d been trying to gauge his quadrant status with various individuals. Back then, he'd focused on Terezi and Sollux, as there had seemed to be real potential for concupiscent reciprocation there. He’d had conciliatory crushes on Kanaya and Gamzee too, for a long time. Then, John and Jade had come along. Two aliens with completely alien emotions, with whom he had never quite been able to properly categorize his feelings for.

Not that he’d ever been able to properly categorize his feelings with anybody, in hindsight. Shit, it’d taken a full-on murderous rampage before he’d come to realize just how pale he'd really been for Gamzee, and even then, he’d nosedived into that relationship more with survival on his mind than anything else.

Because it’d taken him so long to realize his feelings, he’d been too late to stop the highblood’s rampage.

And Terezi… no, forget it. 

Forbidding himself from thinking about relationships anymore, Karkat opened the computer’s Fenestrations™ Media Player application, and scrolled through his meticulously alphabetized movie list. Let’s see… he’d left off at the “P” titles. Next on the list was, _In Which A Pining Jadeblood Learns that Not Only Her Most Direct Ancestor, but Her Ancestor’s Ancestor, Previously Had Black Quadrant Affairs With the Same Wealthy and Philandering Cerulean, After Which She Proceeds to Inexplicably Wax Black for Her, Too. Contains Three Onscreen Instances of—_

God, not this trash again. Karkat couldn’t push the “next” key quickly enough. Even he had some standards.

Predictably, what popped up next on the list just happened to be _In Which a Previously Spurned Lowblood Reunites with his Quadrant Interest After Several Years, Only to Discover That—_

He clicked the “next” key again before he’d even finished reading the title, vehemently cursing all of paradox space under his breath. Enough already. Hadn’t the universe won its prankster’s gambit against him about a million and two times over by now? Couldn’t a sorry, downtrodden mutant-blooded fuckup _ever_ catch a break?

His cursor hovered over another title in the “P” list. “Piano,” was the title. That was all, just one word. Karkat swallowed. Oh. This. Yeah, this wasn't one of his romcoms. This was…

This was something embarrassing. Something he should have gotten rid of a long time ago. Gritting his teeth, he clicked and pulled the file out of the media player library. Dragged it above the waste receptacle icon. Then, he allowed it to hover there, hesitating as his decisive frame of mind faded, resolve crumbling away.

Karkat dragged the file back into the media player. Double-clicked it, fingers moving unmistakably of their own accord, because his brain was clearly saying, “No, stop, don't you dare watch that shit again, what are you, fucking stupid?”

The video opened in a new window. And yes, Karkat was fucking stupid, because the sight of John from several years ago, in his bizarre human “house,” wearing that baffling spade graphic t-shirt, still gave him the same fluttering sensation in the pit of his nutrient digestion sac as it had the first time he'd seen it.

On the screen, young John approached the large melody-making device in his hive’s relaxationblock, making a face at the shelf full of mirthfully-painted human figurines that he passed on the way. He sat down on the polished wooden seating surface, stretching his fingers, scratching the tip of his nose, grinning as inspiration seemed to strike him. The boy plunked a few notes on the instrument, head tilted to the side, lips pursed into a line of concentration. John broke into another big, toothy smile as he found the melody he'd been looking for. Bobbing his head, John coaxed the music effortlessly from a wide panel of monochrome keys.

Karkat had had no idea what the boy had been so happy about. He didn't recognize the _Ghostbusters_ theme. This video had been his first-ever glimpse of a human being, human music, human culture. But, Karkat had recognized the look of simple delight on John's face as he produced the song, lips moving as he silently mouthed the lyrics, and Karkat had been absolutely infuriated by the whole display. The glimpse of John's life had angered him so intensely, he’d felt like he was drowning in a vast sea of enmity. 

John had it so easy. He'd never faced the post-grub trials. Never had to hide his blood color, fearing that a routine blood inspections. Never been hunted by his own bloodthirsty age-mates. Never had his friends culled by drones. Instead, young John blubbered over an insignificant knee injury he'd sustained playing in his lawnring, he whined and fussed that he didn't want to go to his communal schoolfeeding facility, he complained about his human male lusus' nutrient preparations—too many sweets? How was that even a thing to complain about? What a spoiled, ungrateful, bulge-biting wretch. It'd been hate at first sight. Or so Karkat had convinced himself.

Fingers continuing to move on their own, Karkat grabbed the cursor near the end of the clip and dragged it back to the beginning, watching John walk into the room and go through the same motions all over again. Karkat’s eyes were glued to the small, blurry image of John's face as he scowled at the figurines, smiled dreamily at his own thoughts, sang inaudible lyrics.

Karkat hit the “pause” button and froze John, eyes closed and mouth open, midway through belting out, “Who ya gonna call?” He hit “play,” then “pause” again, and this time he caught John with his mouth closed and his eyes wide open, the brightest blue he'd ever seen, brighter even than Vriska's would have been if she'd lived to her second metamorphosis.

That was an awful thought. Everything about this situation was awful. He was awful.

Skin prickling, Karkat sat upright in his chair and clicked to minimize the video. Free from the spell, he again seriously contemplated deleting this video clip. He shouldn't have held onto it this long, shouldn't have even saved it in the first place, should've just deleted it with the rest of the footage of John's timeline. What was he saving it for, anyway? To torture himself with? 

Leaning back in his chair, Karkat stretched, yawned, and shivered, huddling into his sweatshirt. It was cold in here, and he was tired, too tired to make responsible decisions. The thought of his warm recuperacoon was tempting, but he knew there was a good chance Gamzee would be waiting for him when he returned to his respiteblock, and he wanted to clear any thoughts of John from his head from before then. He shouldn't worry his moirail with his emotional bullshit. That wasn't fair. The highblood had more than enough problems of his own.

Tucking his legs up against himself and curling up in the chair for warmth, he double-clicked _In Which A Pining Jadeblood Learns_ etc, etc, and loaded up the dreadful movie in a new window. What he needed was a distraction, and, for him, there could be nothing more distracting than a terribly-written and even more terribly-acted romcom.

Blinking, Karkat stifled another yawn as he rested his chin on his raised knees. In the back of his mind, he heard Kanaya's voice lecturing him about his poor sleep habits, but he blocked it out by focusing on troll Jennifer Anniston as she conferred with her kismesis. He rolled his eyes at the lame, forced dialogue, and braced himself for the agony that was the upcoming, completely lackluster fight scene between the two characters.

After this movie had done its job of thoroughly deadening his thinkpan, Karkat told himself firmly, he was going to drum up the nerve to delete that “Piano” file, once and for all. 

Good plan. 

Yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things happened. So many things. Insert excuses and arm flailing. More chapters coming soon, readers.  
> Soon.  
> Yes, soon.  
> Promise.


	6. Sopor Slime, Nocturnal Trolls, And You

  
By now, you have probably noticed that your troll partner is more comfortable operating outside of you familiar, human “circadian rhythm.” In this chapter, I will briefly cover how evolution and culture have worked together to shape the troll cycle of sleeping and waking. I will also discuss sopor, its history and use, and why you should never, ever, wake a sleeping troll.

~ Rose Lalonde

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He was on the Battlefield. The checkerboard ground underneath quaked under hundreds upon hundreds of pounding feet as a stampeding army approached. 

John heard trumpets sound, heard the raspy chirps of raised carapace voices chittering something over and over, some kind of chant. A war cry. They were calling for his blood, the blood of their one-time hero, who’d been unable to save them. Who had doomed them all to die in a rain of fiery meteors pelting down from the sky.

Massive projectiles struck the checkered earth around John, one by one. _Crash! Crash!_ John tried to run, but it was no use. His feet had turned to lead, his Windy abilities could not be summoned, and he tripped and stumbled over the dips and valleys of the bizarre terrain. _Crash!_ John flew through the air at the force of a nearby impact, landing facedown onto black-and-white. The ground felt smooth and pebbly under his fingers, just like the linoleum of his kitchen back home.

John felt something warm and sticky on his hands, on his face. Reflexive, he licked whatever the stuff was away from his mouth, and tasted… sugar? What? 

Lifting his head, John saw something pink coating his arms. Frosting. Cake frosting! 

Dad?

There he was. Immaculately dressed as ever, white collared shirt tucked into crisp-ironed slacks, brimmed hat tipped at a jaunty angle. There was the familiar smell of cologne, pipe tobacco, and Betty Crocker. John’s dad was there, in the middle of the battlefield, hand oven-mitted and waist apron-wrapped, pulling a freshly-baked cake out of a large white oven while battle trumpets blared and meteors continued to fall.

Tears sprang to the boy’s eyes. 

“Dad!”

John lifted his arms to wave, but the cake frosting smeared on them was darkening in color, running, dripping. Dad turned around, steaming cake pan in hand, and smiled—oh God.

Gashes and tears laced Dad’s skin, streaming red. A ragged hole gaped in the center of his chest, and through it, John could clearly see the bones of his ribcage, damaged organs, ruptured heart within.

“Hello son.” 

John’s father’s voice spoke through a dislocated jaw, broken teeth gleaming, blood dripping from his mashed nose, from the empty indentations which had once been his eyes.

 

*  *  *

 

John jolted awake, covered in cold sweat, heart pounding like mad, shallow gasps catching in his constricted windpipe. Wrenching his hand from Jade’s, John rolled over onto his side and clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming, eyes squeezed shut.

_Dad, Dad, no, no, no, no…!_

Through sheer force of will John suppressed the need to cry out, forced himself to breathe, slow, deep, in through the nose, out through the mouth. It was a few moments before his heart rate decelerated, and John was able to breathe normally once more. There. He was fine, it was only a dream. He was totally calm now. No need to wake Jade or Davesprite.

“Uh oh.” John mouthed words to himself, inaudible. “I broke the friendship chain!” 

The corners of the boy’s lips twitched upwards, and he muffled relived laughter with his hand. He was going to catch hell tomorrow from Jade! Even dead asleep, the girl always knew whenever he or Davesprite broke the chain. It was uncanny sometimes, her weird sense of the placement of objects in space. It made it really hard to beat her in games.

Fresh memories of the awful nightmare were receding. John sat up and stretched, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake his friends. He definitely wasn’t feeling sleepy anymore. He needed to go for a walk to wind back down. Also, he needed to pee. 

Rubbing the grit from his eyes, John swung his legs to the side, kicked off the covers, and stepped, barefoot, on the warm stone floor. Warm metal. Weird. The heat radiating out from the center of the meteor was going to be hard to get used to.

John tiptoed across the room and let himself quietly out into the hallway. Peering through the gloom to the left and right, John scratched his head, trying to remember which way Dave had said the bathroom was.

After several minutes of increasingly-more-nerve-wracking wandering, as the urge to pee grew from a mild annoyance to a major impetus, John finally located a door marked with jagged alien script. Taped across that was a sheet of paper, with English words scribbled hastily in red chalk. “F4C1L1T13S. US3 4T YOUR OWN R1SK.” Phew! There it was! 

John palmed the pad that made the door slide open, only to blanch as he gazed upon several bright-violet, green-slime-filled, completely alien-looking devices inside. His heart sank down to his shoes. A troll bathroom? This meteor had originally been the troll’s ectobiology lab, hadn’t it? Of course it would have troll “facilities.” But hey, that was fine, trolls and humans were biologically pretty similar. How hard could it be to figure out? 

Shutting the door behind him, wringing his hands as he shifted from foot to foot, John examined the exotic utilities with a mixture of curiosity and dread. Okay… that short one there? That one looked like a toilet, sort of. Probably. Yeah.

About ten minutes later, John exited the bathroom, closing the door on the bizarre whirring sound of the troll toilet flushing. John felt intensely relieved and triumphant at having survived his first bout of interspecies culture shock. This had been a victory, not only for him, but for all humankind.

John stopped outside the door, frowning as he contemplated whether to return to bed, or keep walking. His mind began replaying part of his nightmare for a moment, before John stepped in and pushed it firmly out of his mind. Nope, he decided. He was not ready to return to dreamland. Not just yet.

Taking note of the location of the facilities, and of his temporary bedroom, John continued his walk. Strolling through the dark hallway, John stuffed his hands into the shallow pockets of his god tier pajama pants, whistling a jaunty tune that echoed hollowly off the chrome steel walls.

Man. For a laboratory that had been built to spawn the would-be creators of a whole new universe, and genetically engineer an army of monsters to battle them, this place was anything but super-exciting. John had heard from Dave that there were still a few creepy experiments floating in test tubes somewhere in the depths of the labs, but it didn’t look like there was anything like that around here, just some boring hallways leading to boring, empty rooms. John wondered if he could find the temporary dining room where he and the other humans had eaten dinner earlier. Maybe he could fix himself a late-night snack. Despite their huge dinner, he was starting to feel hungry again. John kind of sucked at food alchemization, but he’d settle for a loaf of the lumpy pseudo-bread he always seemed to be able to make correctly.

Was this it? John peeked into a room, but it was too dark to see anything immediately in front of him. He sure wished he’d thought to bring a flashlight! 

Hey, wait. What was that? Listening, John detected a weird noise in the background, a tinny-sounding murmuring. Were those voices? Was somebody in here? Maybe it was one of the bioengineered game monsters, escaped from its goo-filled tube, lurking in the shadows?

Squinting, John could just make out a faint light flicking against the far wall inside. Hmmm. Well, there was only one thing to do now—investigate! John felt his pulse beginning to speed up at the possibility of danger. Okay, it probably wasn’t anything dangerous, but if it was, John was confident he could handle it. As a matter of fact, he’d started to really miss danger, after all those years of safety and boredom. Head buzzing with excitement, John strode through the doorway and journeyed deeper into the room, proceeding with both hands out in front of him to avoid running into anything facefirst.

John headed towards the light, and as he approached, he made out what appeared to be a row of computer monitors and chairs. All of the screens were dark, except one. There was a movie playing on one of the computers against the far wall. That was where the voices were coming from, and he could now see why they’d sounded so funny. It was a troll movie. Two gray-skinned, orange-horned actresses were shouting at each other in Alternian, faces twisted into angry snarls, teeth bared. Oh boy. Looked like a fight scene was about to break out—

—oops, nevermind. The shouting had turned into a kissing scene, instead. A violent kissing scene. The characters scrabbled at each other’s faces with their claws, gnawed on each other’s lips with sharp fangs, as blue and green blood streamed down their chins. Oooookay then.

The chair in front of the screen looked empty. Hmm. Had the movie started playing on its own? Had the room’s occupant stepped out to use the facilities, perhaps? Slow and inquisitive, John tiptoed forward and, whoa, okay, the computer was occupied after all. A small, curled-up form sat there, tucked into a ball, feet off the floor. He hadn’t been visible at first, due to his all-black hair and clothing.

Karkat, of course. Who else would be up in the middle of the “night,” watching a shitty movie in a dark lab all by himself? Although, he wasn’t “up” anymore. Judging from his body position and the sounds of quiet breathing, it looked like he’d conked out in his chair mid-film. A mischievous grin spread across John’s face. What a perfect setup: a dark room, an unsuspecting victim, all alone, fast asleep. It was every trickster’s dream! The possibilities were practically endless! Only question now was, which awesome prank to pull? 

John called up a memorized segment of _Colonel Sassacre’s_ _Daunting Text of Magical Frivolity and Practical Japery,_ entitled, “Spoofs to Spring on Slumbering Subjects.” John immediately dismissed any suggestions that were outright mean, and also any that would potentially wake his “slumbering subject” up. The video of the two black-romantically-entangled trolls mauling each other in throes of hate-passion was still playing on the screen in front of him, and… wow. If that was a “lover’s spat” by troll standards, John didn’t even want to know what a legitimately pissed-off troll was like.

John remembered Dave’s Rule Number Four all too well: “Let sleeping trolls lie.” That was probably good advice, but John thought he needed to listen to his instincts here. Not only the instincts of a Born Jokester, but also of a Concerned Friend. A good old-fashioned pranking might just be the best way to show Karkat that there were no hard feelings between them. And really, the sooner John could trade in this mopey barrel of gloom-and-doom for his hilarious, motormouthed, smart-aleck friend, the better.

John perused the contents of his sylladex and ruminated over the many pranking utensils at his disposal. He still had about a million cans of shaving cream, but the aerosol hiss would run too much of a risk of waking Karkat up. The hand-in-a-glass-of-water trick was a classic, but did that even work on trolls? Again, probably too risky. Besides, he didn’t have a glass!

John did, however, have a blue permanent marker. Ahah! John decaptchalogued the marker, popped off the cap, and, shaking with silent laughter, crept forward one inch at a time until he was leaning right over the unsuspecting troll. This was going to be excellent. 

For a minute, John considered mimicking Dave’s signature style, effectively killing two birds with one poorly-drawn, blue face-dick. It would be so funny if Karkat woke up and thought that Dave had been the culprit! But, no. John wasn’t like Dave, he just didn’t have that level of crudeness in him. Try as he might, John could not bring himself to draw a face-dick. After a brief struggle with indecision, he decided that a curly blue mustache would have to do instead. Heh heh heh.

John leaned in, and…

…froze, as the troll moaned quietly in his sleep, huddling into a tighter ball. 

The boy frowned, hesitated, marker raised. Karkat’s face, barely visible under messy bangs and ever-drawn-up sweatshirt hood, was all scrunched up. He was shivering, and he looked cold and unhappy. Right, John remembered guiltily, “traumatic nightmares.” 

John lost all desire to prank Karkat more or less instantaneously. 

“Are you having shitty dreams, too?” 

John re-captchalogued the marker and reached forward, wanting to—what, pat Karkat’s head? Lay a hand on Karkat’s shoulder? John wanted to do something, he didn’t know what exactly, but it was really hard to resist the urge to comfort Karkat from his nightmares, as he’d done so many times before with Jade and Davesprite.

Maybe… at the very least…

John let his hand fall from where it wavered. He grabbed the hem of his god tier hoodie, pulled it up over his head, and gently draped it over the troll’s knees, tucking the long hood up around Karkat’s shoulders like a scarf to add an extra layer of warmth. There. John decaptchalogued and put on his second-favorite tee, a Ghostbusters tee, and took a step back, surveying his handiwork. He smiled. Yeah, that was a much more appropriate way to show that there were no hard feelings. A much more friendly way. Even better, Karkat was now obligated to return the hoodie at some point. And maybe he’d even be forced to say, “thank you,” though John had no doubt he’d find a way to say it in the most grouchy, cantankerous way possible.

Gosh, Karkat sure looked cute right now.

John gave his head a small shake, brow furrowing. That was a weird thing to think! Karkat? Cute? He never would have imagined it was possible, but there it was. Not cute in _that_ way, John quickly clarified to himself. Karkat was just… tiny. Vulnerable. Cute like a little kid, or a puppy.

Tucking in one last corner of the hoodie, John smiled down at the sleeping troll. “Sweet dreams.” Oh man, now John had the bizarre urge to kiss him on the forehead, the way Rose had done to him earlier. Ew, no, what the hell? That was just creepy. John really needed to go to bed, his brain was tired and he was thinking weird thoughts.

Reaching over Karkat to the computer, John clicked out of the movie window, silencing the background music and the Alternian chatter. Byebye, Troll Jennifer Anniston. Farewell, overwrought quadrant shenanigans. Another day, perhaps. John figured he should probably close down any applications and log Karkat off the network, so as not to waste electricity, or… whatever was powering the computers out here.

John was not a snoop, and so he definitely did not scroll down the list of movies in Karkat’s bizarrely familiar alien media player. He definitely did not pucker his lips in disappointment as he was unable to read any of the Alternian titles. His interest definitely did not pique at the sight of a minimized video clip in the lower tab. He definitely did not deliberately click on it, open it up, and hit “play.” Oops! This crazy alien software was doing all kinds of spooooky things on its own. John was helpless to stop it!

Hang on. Was that… was that John’s living room?

John’s blood turned to ice as, on the computer screen, he watched himself walk into the familiar room. Watched himself stick out his tongue and thumb his nose at his dad’s harlequin collection on the shelf, like he always did. Watched himself sit at the piano bench, and then to his horror watched himself play the theme from _Ghostbusters_ , lip-syncing in an unbelievably dorky, embarrassing manner all the while.

The video clip ended after a few minutes. John was left standing there, open-mouthed. This video was old! This was from before he’d ever even played Sburb, back when he’d been a normal kid living a normal, if somewhat boring life. How had Karkat even gotten this? Why had he been watching it now, while everybody else was asleep?

John must have made some kind of noise, because the silence of the lab was broken by a thunderous growl from directly behind him. Crying out, the boy whirled around to see a pair of glowing orange eyes piercing the darkness, glaring right at him, light from the screen glinting off jagged rows of bared fangs.

Oh boy.

“Whoa, um, h-hey buddy! I, I was just l-logging you out of the—” 

John was cut off as the troll made the most terrifying sound the boy had ever heard in his life, and with a sweep of wolverine-like claws that shot out of the tips of his fingers, Karkat tore John’s god tier hoodie to shreds, pounced off his chair, and lunged in his direction.

John's only saving grace was the fact that the troll was sleepy and disoriented, while he was wide-awake, alert, already on his feet. Unthinking, the boy dodged behind the nearest computer chair, wanting to get something, anything, between himself and the enraged troll.

Karkat flung the chair out of his way with a single swipe, tearing gashes in the fake leather. It smashed into one of the computer screens, splintering the monitor to bits in a spray of sparks.

John wasted several precious seconds gaping like an idiot as Karkat raised his arm to strike. He almost forgot he could use the Windy Thing as a shield. Luckily, the Windy Thing sometimes operated on pure instinct.

John threw up his arms to protect his face, summoning a cushioning wall of wind between himself and the troll, just in the nick of time. Pain seared across both forearms as claws grazed. In response, John unleashed the full force of the Windy Thing, knocking his assailant back, flipping him through the air head over heels. For a second John was worried he'd overdone it, but then the troll lashed out in midair, dug his nails into the steel floor, and halted his backwards momentum, skidding to a stop with a piercing _screeee_. Using the entrenched claws as leverage, Karkat kicked off against the floor and shot forward, charging right through the gale-force wind. 

John cried, "Karkat no—!" Then, "OOF!" as he was tackled to the floor.

To John’s surprise, he was not skewered upon a fistful of dagger-nails. Karkat just pinned him down, holding him in place. Wide, manic eyes smoldered down at John, guttural breaths wheezed through the chinks of gritted, bear-trap teeth. But Karkat didn’t move. He just stared.

Was he coming to his senses?

"Karkat, it's me, John! Remember? I'm sorry for snooping on your computer, I didn't mean to, I couldn't sleep so I was just going for a walk and—" John stopped, flinching as another terrifying snarl began… then, just as quickly, it cut off. Looking up, John saw the troll was now blinking rapidly, peering back down at him in confusion.

" _Nnhse rrtchya_ … Jrrhn?" A look of startled recognition crossed the troll's face, and he sat up on his haunches. "Th fck rre yh…?" Unlike earlier, Karkat's English was barely intelligible through his still-bared teeth, voice growly and thick with sleep, but it seemed like maybe Karkat was somewhat cognizant now. His clothes were disheveled and his hood had fallen back, leaving his hair mussed and sticking up in every direction, and with those teeth and huge yellow eyes, he looked positively wolfish.

John's heart was in his throat. Gulping hard, he somehow managed to get out, "Um… please don't kill me?" At that, Karkat jumped to his feet and staggered back, clutching his head in his hands, hissing as if in pain. John pushed himself up on his elbows, scrambling to his feet as well. Worried, he reached a hand forward. "Are you oka—?”

“ _Get out John_.” Karkat snarled, tore his hand away from his head, eyes enormous and pupils constricted to little pinpricks. “ _Get out, get out, get out_.” Now Karkat was advancing, movements slinking and predatory, claws fully extended from the ends of his fingers.

In his head, John heard Rose's voice. "It’s hard for them to contain their aggression when they’re scared and disoriented. I’m afraid the trolls’ self-defensive instincts can be rather… potent."

Holy. 

Fucking. 

Shit. 

If that wasn't eligible for the Understatement of the Year Award, John didn't know what was. Turning, he sprinted for the exit, ran through, punched the doorpad on his way out— _why_ didn't any of these rooms have proper, slammable doors? Once outside, John kept on running, out into the hallway, down the adjoining corridor. He didn't stop until he reached the door marked “F4C1L1T13S.”

Bending double, hands on his knees, John panted, gasped for breath, nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard a forceful, echoing crash from the direction of the computer lab.

And another. And another. Those were followed by a cry of rage like nothing John had ever heard before, piercing, high-pitched, and so inhuman it made all the hairs on every inch of his body stand on end.

Then, nothing. Dead silence. 

Shivering powerfully despite the heat, John hoped Karkat had finally calmed himself down, because he sure as hell wasn't going back in there to check on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to draw more (and better) pictures for this chapter, but between work getting real hectic and me moving out of my house permanently, alas, I was not able. Funny story though: the pose I used for the second picture? I was having trouble tackling the perspective, so two of my friends posed like that for a sketch. This happened in public. I can only imagine what onlookers must've thought. I've got me some quality friends.


	7. The Quadrants, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told myself after nanowrimo I'd go back to this fic aaand... I continued to take a break to do Christmas things and buy a house, but then I did the thing and went back to the fic.  
> I wanted to draw at least three illustrations for this chapter, I even had three compositions laid out, but it ended up being really hard getting up the motivation to do the one. I told myself one is fine and that I'm leaving open the option to come back and add more, I just wanted to get a chapter on the internet and get my fanfiction motivation back. Hopefully I can get back in the swing of things, this fic is taking forever but I still totally intend to finish it. Much thanks to those who've liked it. :)

 

 

 

 

Now at long last we come to the topic you’ve no doubt been waiting for, perhaps with excitement, perhaps with dread—the infamous quadrants. Despite how difficult the quadrant system may be for humans to understand, learning the structure of trolls relationships and how they affect you is of the utmost importance if you want your relationship with your troll partner to have any chance of succeeding. Keep in mind that it can very accurately be said that on Alternia, finding stables quadrants and filling pails is a young troll’s primary duty to their society. It may seem funny or odd to us humans that they take this so seriously, but underestimate the importance of the quadrants at your peril. I simply cannot overstate the importance of the quadrants.

 

~Rose Lalonde

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

 

John didn't remember falling asleep again. But he knew he must have at some point, because he also didn't remember how Jade had come to be kneeling beside him on the bed, bouncing up and down on her knees and shaking him roughly.

"Time to wake up, sleepyhead! You're in big trouble!"

"Who? Wha?" John shot up, arms flailing, and bonked his forehead right into Jade's. "Yeowch!" He grabbed his head. “Shit, sorry!"

"Oww, John!" Jade rubbed her own head and laughed. "Calm down, we're not under attack! It's just time to get up for breakfast!"

"However, dude, it would appear that you broke the friendship chain last night." Davesprite hovered overhead, arms crossed. "As punishment, you must forfeit all of your bacon to Jade and myself. All bacon privileges are hereby revoked. Can you dig?”

"Oh, um… I can dig. Only fair, I guess.” John yawned, confused, and continued massaging the growing bump on his forehead. He felt like he'd barely slept at all. And what was…? Something was tugging on the edges of his memory, something that filled him with a sense of dread. Had it been another nightmare? He couldn't remember.

"Whoa!" Jade took hold of one of John's arms and her eyes went wide. "Holy crap John! What in the world happened to you?" 

"Huh?" John looked down, and noticed the scabbed-over scratch marks lining both forearms. His stomach clenched at the sight. "Oh. Right."

“Here’s where I’d normally say, 'I warned you about stairs, dog,’ but I'm pretty sure there aren't any in the nearby vicinity." Davesprite's orange eyebrows slowly drifted upwards, cresting the black shades.

“I just tripped while I was looking for the bathroom last night!” John tugged his arm back from Jade, sheepish. “And cut myself on… some pointy thingies. No big deal!”

"Pointy thingies?” Jade and Davesprite repeated in unison.

John winced. Yeah. That had been the most terrible excuse in the history of ever. Dave hadwarned him to let sleeping trolls lie, waking Karkat literally right afterwards had been pretty stupid of him. It'd be less embarrassing to keep pretending his injuries were accidentally self-inflicted. After all, Karkat was probably pretty embarrassed about the whole thing too, right? Had he told anybody what John had done?

Oh no. Was this going to ruin his friendship with Karkat forever?

"Egbert. Hey, Egbert. Egbert, you’re doing your Egbert thing. Snap out of it, man.” Davesprite snapped his fingers in John's face. 

John snapped out of it. 

"Oops! Sorry, I didn't sleep very well." John heaved a huge yawn as if to prove his point, but he wasn't faking, he was dead tired. He now remembered laying awake endlessly after sneaking back into bed, half expecting a nightmare-crazed Karkat might kick the door in at any moment to resume attempting to murder him. He doubted he’d gotten even one hour of sleep.

"Anyway, breakfast's on. Get cracking and get dressed, before Jade and I leave you in our dus— _oof_."

"Shush!" Jade smacked Davesprite with a pillow, looking peeved. Her expression changed to worry as she addressed John. "Bro, what’s wrong? Did something happen last night?"

"No, no!" John insisted, raising his hands. "Nothing happened, nothing at all. I'm fine, I swear, I just fell down like a dumbass. Really."

"Are you positive?" Jade leaned in, now sporting an accusatory expression. “Why’d you leave the room, anyway? You didn't have a nightmare you’re not telling us about, did you?”

"Erm.” John had had a nightmare, actually, before the whole business with Karkat in the computer lab. Maybe that would make a good cover story? "I… yeah! I mean, well, kind of." 

"You did? Well then why'd you go stumbling around in the dark by yourself, dummy? Why didn't you wake me or Davesprite?"

Oops. That hadn't been the best cover story after all. "Um, you know what? Forget about it. It was nothing."

"What do you mean it was nothing?" Jade's dog ears flattened and she pursed her lips to one side. "Did you have a nightmare, or didn't you?"

"I mean, okay, I did sort of did have a nightmare. But it was no big deal. Also, I already forgot it!" John winced. This whole lying business was not as easy as the movies made it out to be.

Drifting back down, Davesprite intervened for him. "Cut the boy some slack. I'm sure he was just staggering around like a drunken hobo in the dark, getting into fisticuffs with whatever dirty lowdown laboratory devices had the chutzpah to get in his way.”

“Wait, why would…?” Jade visibly wilted. “That sounds stupid."

"Exactly.” Davesprite gave a sagacious head-tilt. “Don’t get me wrong, babe, hugs and buddy-cuddles are the shit. But sometimes, us male-types just gotta bust out that machismo. Punch inanimate objects right in the face, show 'em who's boss. Right, Egderp?”

Davesprite was giving John this _look._ This smug, knowing look, oh holy shit, what was he implying. Refusing to dignify any of that with an answer, John turned away and went back to pretending everything was perfectly normal. He began perusing his sylladex for a clean outfit. Where had his god tier hoodie gotten to?

Ah, right. Karkat had shredded it. 

John's shoulders slumped. Despite knowing his “God Hood” was just for show and had nothing to do with his actual powers, he’d developed a sentimental attachment to that goofy blue garment nonetheless. Sighing inwardly, John told himself that it was way too hot and muggy for flannel pajamas, anyway. He decaptchalogued his slime ghost tee instead, along with a clean pair of shorts and underwear. “Guys, can I get a little privacy?” To John's relief, his friends agreed to stand out in the hallway while he changed. 

It wasn’t like they hadn’t all seen each other in various states of undress during the three years. Traveling in the ship had been kind of how John had imagined college dorm life, everyone all up in each others’ business. But now that they were on the meteor, it felt too weird to just change right in front of Jade and Davesprite. It felt like they were guests in somebody else’s house, expected to be on their best behavior.

John sat, crammed a pair of clean socks on his feet, and began lacing his sneakers, lost in contemplation. How long would it be before they all got used to living with each other here? Rose and Dave had obviously settled into a comfortable arrangement with the trolls. But how did he, Jade, and Davesprite fit into the equation? Hopefully they’d all get along, humans and trolls, and everybody else, too. The trolls had seemed pretty cool the other day. Nobody seemed like they were looking for a fight. Except maybe Karkat.

Karkat. John remembered the video of himself he’d found on Karkat’s computer. His mouth went dry, fingers fumbling with his shoelaces. Man. What was the deal with that, anyway? Had Karkat been spying on him? Stalking him?

John shook his head, hard, and returned his attention to tying his shoes. Nah, maybe… maybe that hadn't been what it looked like. Yeah. There was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation that just hadn't occurred to him yet. He shouldn’t just jump to conclusions! Regardless, he definitely needed to talk to Karkat about this right away. He needed to smooth over the events of last night, before things got even more awkward between them.

It wasn’t long before Rose and Dave came to collect John, Jade, and Davesprite from their temporary room for breakfast. This time, they were led to a much bigger dining hall with multiple alchemiters, the one the humans had been sharing with the trolls. Terezi and Kanaya were already inside, seated around a gold-inlaid marble table—Rose’s interior-decorating bug strikes again!—chatting over identical bowls of something that looked like glowing, neon-pink pond scum. John remembered Dave’s decree against eating troll food without permission, and decided that that wasn't going to be a problem. Permission or not, he had no desire whatsoever to try that pink mush.

John, Jade, and Davesprite sat down at the table beside the two trolls, as Rose and Dave left to, as Dave said in an exaggerated Texan accent, “rustle up some grub” for their guests. John really hoped he was talking about the not-gross human kind of grub. To his relief, shortly afterwards, the delicious smell of bacon, eggs, and toast drifted over from the direction of the alchemiters. John inhaled deeply, his mouth watered, and he lamented the loss of his bacon privileges that “morning.”

As food was being prepared, John took the time to examine Terezi and Kanaya. He didn't want to be rude, but they didn’t seem to mind, as they were busy giving their new guests a good once-over, too. Kanaya was, anyway, Terezi was sniffing in their direction and looking just as intrigued. John hoped she wasn’t going to try to taste them.

John was still utterly fascinated by the trolls’ appearance. On one hand, they were so ridiculously similar to humans, it was impossible to believe that the two species hadn't somehow been fashioned with the same basic blueprint. By some other, even more highly advanced alien species? By whoever or whatever had created Sburb? Man, what a mystery!

On the other hand, there were so many little differences. The two alien girls were so tall and thin, slender-limbed, with graceful, spidery fingers. Their claws were retracted right now, leaving vertical slits where fingernails should have been. Gossamer wings folded up neatly against their backs, like shimmering capes. Red-orange horns stood out, so bright against their otherwise monochromatic color palette: black hair, black lips, gray skin. Their hair looked coarser and stiffer than the humans', sticking up and spiking out in funny ways. John was reminded of the hairs on a spider’s legs, and he shivered a little, though not in disgust. The boy had always had a fondness for all things strange and alien. He found himself wishing he could touch one of the trolls' hair to see what it felt like, but he had the feeling that doing so would be almost as impolite as Terezi licking him, so he refrained.

“How are you enjoying your experience on the meteor so far?” Kanaya smiled and showed off a full set of razor teeth, punctuated by those two extra-long canines on either side. 

John smiled back, trying hard not to be put off by her appearance or her formality. “Well, uhh, it’s…"

“It’s super great!” Jade cut in. “Kind of hot, but it’s not much worse than my island was! And I LOVE the decorating job! You and Rose did all this, right?”

“Why, yes." Kanaya's smile widened, and John could have sworn she was glowing. "I have always had a strong interest in art and design. As it happens, Rose shares this interest, and so we collaborated in our efforts to make these accommodations somewhat more… aesthetically pleasing.” John noticed her gaze dart quickly in Rose’s direction, smile still lingering on the edges of her lips. 

John wasn’t the only one who noticed. Terezi pinched Kanaya's arm, sniggering. “Aw, you two!” Kanaya’s cheeks flushed a pale green hue. John noticed Terezi also had a greenish coloration under her gray, though there was a slight blueish tint there as well. What caused that? Did trolls really have blue and green blood, like in Karkat’s movie? Cool!

"Terezi, I would strongly prefer you not tease me about—"

“But you're such a precious pair of love grubs!” Terezi placed her chin in one hand and sighed, wistful, continuing to poke Kanaya mercilessly with her other hand. "I'm telling you Kanaya, you and Rose go together like grub paste and tuber butter. Like two pupae in a pod. Like—"

“Two bugs in a bucket?” Davesprite chimed in, and Terezi made a scandalized noise and leaned across the table to give him a high five. Kanaya's face went completely viridescent. She sank down as small as a six-foot troll could get, picking sulkily at her bowl full of radioactive pond scum. 

John elbowed Davesprite, hard. He distinctly remembered Vriska telling him that trolls had some sort of cultural taboo against the discussion of cleaning products, particularly buckets. At the same time, Jade was elbowing her boyfriend from the other side, glaring back and forth between him and Terezi, and John groaned inwardly when he realized what she must be thinking.

John could kind of understand why Jade might be jealous, but it wasn't like Davesprite shouldn't be able to joke around with Terezi just because he was dating Jade while another version of himself was dating her. …Right? Geez oh man. Why did these romantic entanglement things always have to be so awkward and confusing?

Looking put out, Davesprite shrugged his feathered shoulders in defeat and began playing Tetris on his iShades. Terezi, seemingly having picked up on whatever had just happened, was "staring" at Jade with her unsettling blind eyes, head tilted to the side. The dog-girl glared right back at the troll, tight-lipped, drumming her fingers on the table standoffishly. Silence descended.

Shit. John floundered for a distraction. “Oh, hey! Do you mind if I ask you something?”

Terezi and Kanaya looked startled by the interruption, obviously thinking the question had been directed at them. And now John was struggling to think of a question. Which wasn’t a problem, actually, as there were about a zillion and one things he wanted to know about trolls. “Um, so I’ve been wondering, how come you girls are really tall and stuff, and Karkat… is…?” He trailed off, unsure how to put it nicely.

“Karkat is what, an iiiitty-bitty little shrimp?” Terezi held her thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart, grinning. Then her face fell. “Shrimp! Dammit, that was SO close to being a crab pun! If only I could’ve stretched that a little. Quick guys, help me out here! C’mon, something about seafood…”

“Ahem.” Kanaya had apparently having recovered enough from her flustered state to speak once more. “John, I believe you’re referring to the dimorphic disparity between male and female troll secondary metamorphoses?”

“Huh?” John, Jade, and Davesprite asked as one, their faces uniformly blank.

“What the grandiloquent broad’s trying to say is that troll hombres tend to be a step behind troll chicas in the troll circle of life.” Dave appeared behind them, handling three steaming plates of breakfast. He set down a plate for each of the three humans. “Watch yourselves. Shit's almost as hot as my sick rhythms.” 

John blinked. “Wait, Dave. What was that first thing you said?”

“John, I think what Dave and Kanaya are saying is that troll girls reach maturity earlier than troll guys.” Jade urned to Kanaya, pointedly ignoring Terezi. “Right?”

“Yes. Just like humans.” Rose appeared with the other two plates, setting them down before seating herself beside Kanaya and stretching upwards to plant a small kiss on her cheek. John blushed and almost forgot what they’d been talking about entirely, until Dave went on.

“Yeah, exactly like humans. Except, instead of pimples and hair cropping up in funny places, troll puberty involves going into a cocoon and coming out mad tall, with wings and shit.”

“Wow, really? Cool!”

Terezi and Kanaya shot John a pair of confused, disparaging looks.

“Cool? Cool is exactly what it isn’t.” Terezi wrinkled her nose. “Metamorphosis is painful, gross, and just a downright awful experience, all in all.” Her face brightened, and she unfolded and stretched her turquoise wings. “Although, getting to keep our wings? Yeah okay, that’s pretty cool.”

“Getting to keep them?” Jade frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“Traditionally, troll wings are removed post-pupation.” Kanaya paused to sip from a steaming cup of something that might have been tea. “Wings are not much use in zero gravity. And they become a downright liability where form-fitting, fleet-issue body armor is concerned.”

“Oh yeah. The fleet.” Davesprite talked while munching his toast. "Weren't you all supposed to grow up to be space conquerers?"

John was perpetually baffled by how nothing ever seemed to phase either of the Daves, not even, it would seem, the discussion of routine mutilation and forcible military conscription over breakfast. He lowered his gaze and picked at his own meal, feeling his appetite steadily diminishing.

“Ding ding ding! Correct! Tell the feathery coolkid what he’s won!” Terezi looked uncomfortable despite her attempt at teasing.

Jade was still frowning at Terezi, but the tightness had gone out of her face and her eyes were growing wider. "That's terrible! So if you hadn’t played Sgrub, you all would have had your wings cut off and been forced to join the fleet?"

“Most of us would have.” Kanaya set her teacup down and stared down into the swirling liquid, propping her elbows on the table. "Though, considering my blood caste, I would instead have been commissioned to assist the mother grub in the birthing caverns of Alternia. However, my wings would have been removed nonetheless, as it would be unwise to allow a lowly auxiliatrix a means of escape from her duties—”

“Shh. Let's not get into all that right now, okay?” Rose patted her girlfriend’s arm gently. “Once we win this game and get our worlds back, we’ll make sure everyone has the freedom to choose whichever grown-up duties they like.” 

Kanaya's eyes widened. “Oh. Yes. Of course.”

Almost shyly, Rose brushed her fingers lightly over Kanaya’s, and she and the troll shared an intimate look that made John feel simultaneously happy for them and mortified. Turning his head to give the two sweethearts a little privacy, John caught a movement in the corner of his eye. And then he jerked in his seat, caught off-guard at the sight of a black-hooded, nubby-horned figure slinking quietly through the door. 

Karkat! 

John bit his lip. He hadn’t expected the troll to show his face so readily after what had happened between them last night. It didn’t seem like anybody else knew about the computer lab incident, but Karkat had to have realized that he might run into John in the dining room.

Or maybe not? Scanning the room warily, Karkat met John’s eyes for a second, his face went white, and he quickly dropped his gaze to the floor, blinking rapidly. Beneath the hood, the troll looked to be in even worse shape than John after last night, eyes bloodshot and puffy. Shoulders hunched, head turned deliberately away from John, Karkat crept straight to the nearest alchemiter and began silently fixing himself a bowl of the pink, lumpy stuff.

John was wondering whether he ought to call out to him or just let him sneak away, when Terezi sat up straight, nostrils flaring and a wide grin spreading across her face. 

“Karkles? What a surprise!” At once Terezi was on her feet, wings fluttering, decaptchaloguing her cane and tapping her way towards Karkat, her non-cane-arm spread as if eliciting a hug. “You never show up for meals with us anymore! To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Karkat swatted her groping cane away. “Fuck off, Pyrope. I’m not in the mood.”

A jagged grin split Terezi's face in two, and she clapped her hands together around the handle of her cane. “Hermit Crab!” She looked positively thrilled to have finally found her crab pun. “Did poor little Hermit Crab have a rough night? You smell like angst and sleep deprivation. Not that that’s anything new!”

John watched their prickly interaction with growing surprise. They didn’t seem to be getting along at all! But weren’t they…?

Oh. Wait, if Dave and Terezi were dating, didn’t that mean…?

“Psst. Rose.” John side-eyed the girl sitting across from him. Her elegantly arched brows lifted. “Are Terezi and Karkat not a thing anymore?”

Rose shook her head, frowning. Leaning forward on her elbows, conspiratorial, she whispered, “Their relationship didn’t pan out, unfortunately. Far too much vacillation.”

“Ah. Okay,” John whispered back. He wondered whether he’d sound too stupid if he had to ask what “vacillation” meant.

“But as you can no doubt see, they have managed to remain the best of friends." A slight, mischievous grin curled at the corners of Kanaya's lips as she whispered, painted brilliantly green today, matching her irises.

Looking over, John watched as Karkat leaned in, lips drawn back in a snarl, jabbing a pointed finger into Terezi's flat chest. John couldn't hear what Karkat was saying as he was speaking under his breath, but his mouth was definitely motoring away. Cackling loudly enough to drown Karkat's speech out entirely, Terezi drew back an arm and whacked Karkat across both kneecaps with her cane, hard enough that his legs buckled. Somehow, Karkat managed to avoid spilling his bowl of pink mush. Even more impressively, Karkat twisted and delivered a kick mid-fall, sweeping Terezi’s legs out from under her. She started to fall over backwards, giggling all the way. She extended her claws, painted a cheery red, and swiped at Karkat's face as she rolled to break her fall. But Karkat was already back on his feet. Flipping up a middle finger over his shoulder at Terezi, he walked away, fuming perceivably under his pulled-up hood.

John looked back at Kanaya. “So, is that how trolls show friendship, or?”

Rose grinned. “I’ve been coaching Kanaya in the ways of human sarcasm.”

“Oh.” 

John returned to his breakfast. He knew he was out of his league when it came to keeping track of all these crazy relationships. That was Rose’s thing, and he guessed, Kanaya’s, too. Not his. John’s thing was, well, it was. Hmm.

John wondered whether he even had a thing.

Kanaya’s arm shot out and grabbed a handful of the back of Karkat's sweatshirt as he passed, stopping him in his tracks, startling John and the other humans. “And just where do you think you are going?” Kanaya sat up rigidly straight and stared right into Karkat's eyes with a schoolteacher's sternness, resisting his attempts to squirm away.

“Back to my hiveblock, to attempt to cram some of this disgusting shit down Gamzee’s protein hole.” Karkat glared at Kanaya over his shoulder and captchalogued the pink slime bowl. “Why? I wasn’t aware that making sure your braindead moirail eats once in a while was a fucking crime.”

“And when is the last time you’ve eaten anything, yourself? Or slept inside your recuperacoon, for that matter?” 

Kanaya finally released her grip on his sweatshirt, and Karkat whirled around with a growl. “Let me think, it was, oh, maybe sometime between none-of-your-business and shut-the-fuck-up-o’clock.”

Kanaya growled then, too, drowning him out with a rolling sound that seemed to be coming from somewhere deep within her chest—erm, thorax. The hairs on the back of John's neck rose at the sound. Kanaya stood, pushed back her chair, and stalked forward, emerald wings flaring. John sank down low into his chair, glancing around for escape routes in case a fight was about to break out.

But, that didn’t seem to be what was going on here. Karkat bristled, staring Kanaya down as she approached. Kanaya raised an arm… but instead of striking a blow, she reached forward and lightly touched the side of his face. She slid one finger down under Karkat's chin, lifting his head to look into her eyes. John was struck by the fact that their height difference made them look almost like parent and child.

"D-don't fucking pap me." Karkat's voice sounded strained as he brushed her hand aside.

“Karkat. I saw the mess you made of the computer lab.” Kanaya's voice had gone soft. “You must stop falling asleep outside of your recuperacoon. The laboratories are simply not built to accommodate the abuse of waking rage—”

“ _Kanaya!_ _Hrescherrn nse Alternian, vriktra_ humans _na ksscht ahkte!_ ” Karkat exploded into furiously fast Alternian, face darkening as he gestured to the table full of stunned humans nearby.

Kanaya cut him off, grabbing his flailing arm at the wrist. “No, I shall continue speaking English, thank you very much! I do not care who overhears!” Kanaya's voice was stern again. “If I shame you publicly, maybe you will listen to me this time!” John noticed that though she was still holding Karkat's wrist high, Kanaya was now rubbing small circles across it with her thumb. “Listen. It is imperative that you make your health a higher priority—”

Shaking his arm hard, Karkat dislodged Kanaya's grasp. “Kanaya. Stop. That is not your fucking job.” Leaning forward, Karkat somehow managing to give the appearance of looking down at Kanaya even from more than a foot below. “You’re not my moirail.”

Looking like she’d been slapped, Kanaya took a step back. “Well. Where is he, then? Should not he be the one to tell you this?”

Karkat made an astonished noise and, for a second, he looked like he was about to blow up at her some more. But instead, he whirled sharply around, continuing his march out the door as though he'd never been interrupted. 

As he passed by, John shot him a look.

Karkat ignored John’s look, too, and just kept going. Refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, he stormed out of the room, slamming the doorpad on his way out. The air buzzed with silence for a minute or two after he left.

Dave nudged John from under the table, and in a low tone, murmured, “Told you, bro.” Sweeping his hand in the direction of the door, Dave said, “Ladies and gentlemen, Sir Karkat Vantas, Knight of Wrecking Shit.”

“Hero of Wigglerish Temper Tantrums.” Terezi returned to the table with a fresh bowl of pink goop and an ear-to-ear smile. She crammed a heaping spoonful of the glowing mush into her mouth, chuckling at her own joke as she chewed noisily.

Kanaya sat back down too, slumping in her chair, expression sour. Rose offered a comforting, outstretched hand, but Kanaya gently pushed it aside, seeming to want to brood in silence. Shrugging, Rose returned her attention to her own breakfast.

After a few minutes of eating without looking at the troll girl beside her, Rose spoke. “I know how frustrating Karkat can be. But Kanaya, you’re not helping by foisting your pale yearnings on him.”

Snorting, Kanaya turned and spat, “I cannot help it! He, he is so…”

“Pathetic?” Terezi snorted. “I used to think so too. But mother grub help you should you try to pity him.”

For some reason that made Kanaya’s cheeks turn bright green again. “W-well, Terezi, you are not helping either, with your inability to keep your respective caliginous yearnings in check.”

John’s head was spinning. Somehow, this had gone from what seemed like ordinary quarreling to a messy quadrant affair in the blink of an eye.

“You think I’m black for that cherry-scented pipsqueak? Please.” Terezi made a head motion as though rolling her eyes. “Karkat couldn’t take me in a fight with my cane-arm tied behind my back and a spring-clamping garment pin on my nose.”

“Karkat is a much more capable adversary than you give him credit for,” Kanaya said sharply. “And let us be honest here, shall we? We both know that you are as concerned for him as I am. You simply express this in a black way, while my feelings manifest themselves pale, and that is no reason to—“

“Ladies!” Dave interrupted. “No alien love quadrangulation at the breakfast table.”

The two trolls shot him identical glares of annoyance. Both of them opened their mouths to reply. But before anyone had the chance to start any more arguments, John swept his barely-touched breakfast aside, pushed out his chair, and got to his feet. 

"Hey guys,” he heard his own voice saying, "I think I'd better go find Karkat."

Six pairs of eyes: two human, two alien, and two hidden behind dark shades, goggled up at him in disbelief.

Jade was the first to speak. "John, why?"

"Because!" John balled his fists tightly when he realized that he didn't have any sort of believable excuse prepared. "Because, um." He crossed his arms. "I need to ask him something!”

It felt pretty good to be the one giving vague non-answers, for once.

"Yeah? Good luck finding him," Terezi said with a shrug. "If he's not in his hive, he's probably sulking somewhere in the deep labs. Mister Red-Hot Cinnamon BonBons can be pretty slippery when he's in a bad mood." Chortling, she added under her breath, "Which is to say, always."

"Actually, I know where he…” Jade trailed off, fidgeting as all attention turned to her.

"Hey, that's right!" John swung around to face his sister, eager. "Jade, you can track him down him with your space powers, can't you?" 

"Kanaya, you're a space player too!" Terezi cried out. "You never told me you could do that when you were on the red team!"

"I am a Sylph, not a Witch." Kanaya sniffed disapprovingly, adding, "Furthermore, I am a Sylph who respects others' rights to privacy."

Jade made a small whimpering sound, ears drooping. "Um, yeah, so maybe I shouldn't…"

"Jaaade!" John clasped his hands in front of him, begging. "C'mon, do me this one favor! Please?"

"Gosh, I dunno, John! I mean, why do you even want to go see him? I kinda get the feeling that Karkat wants to be left alone!"

"I know!" John began waving his arms in aggravation. “But, that's stupid! How is leaving Karkat alone going to help? He can't just keeping hiding from his friends and blaming himself for everything that’s happened!"

"John." Kanaya tapped his shoulder, and John froze, then lowered his arms. "You do realize that we have all tried to tell him this, in various ways, numerous times. Yes?"

"Okay, well." John combed his fingers roughly through his hair. "I just think that I ought to try, too. I mean, what kind of friend would I be if I just didn't even try? Not a very good one, that's what kind!" He shut up suddenly, realizing that nobody was meeting his gaze. 

Oh. Oops. He hadn't meant to suggest that the others were bad friends or anything. Just. Wow. What had he meant to suggest? Oh man. He needed to put a sock in it, before he mired himself even deeper into this sinkhole of dumb.

In a flash, Dave appeared at his side, regarding him with a knowing smile and his hands on his hips. "Now, Egbert. While your concern for Vantas is very sweet," he said, making John's face grow instantly red-hot, "trust me, it's unwarranted. Runty McDouchewad has made it more than clear that he fully intends to keep on giving the finger to any and all attempts at cheering him up. I mean, like, is cheering him up even a thing that's physically possible?"

"Negative, Your Tyranny!" Terezi slapped a hand down on the table with a silverware-rattling bang. 

"The court has spoken." Dave gestured to Terezi and shrugged. "Just let him have his space, okay?"

John sighed, hanging his head in defeat. "Okaaay. Fine."

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

After breakfast, John, Jade, and Davesprite were given leave to pick out whatever rooms they wanted for themselves. After a short deliberation, they unanimously decided to move closer to Rose, Kanaya, Dave, and Terezi. To John's relief, their new rooms were far away from the recently-trashed computer lab. Passing by the site of the “incident” still freaked him out a little.

Karkat and Gamzee shared a room somewhere nearby, he’d heard, however both trolls could rarely ever be found in their rooms. Seemed they were both big fans of wandering the dark recesses of the meteor, avoiding everybody.

Jade and Davesprite had decided to share a room, leaving John the odd man out. Ordinarily he would have been happy to have his own room, but now with the psychological threat of nightmares, and the physical threat of nightmare-crazed trolls, he was just feeling kind of lonely and bummed out. But, for the sake of his friends’ feelings, John did his best to pretend otherwise.

"Aww yeah, I get my own room? Finally! I'm gonna re-alchemize all my ruined movie posters, and hang them wherever the heck I want! This is SO sweet! Woohoo!"

John may have overdone it a little. Jade started giving him funny looks, so he stopped whooping, quieted down, and continued packing up all the junk that their quest buddies had dumped into the temporary room. Yes, even more of their junk had appeared in the room overnight, this time salvaged from their houses on their personal planets.

The rest of the day was spent trying to cobble together some form of order on the meteor. Rose, Dave, and the trolls hadn't taken such an overwhelming number of new arrivals into account when they'd been making accommodation plans. Jade had used her space powers to keep their sprite, carapace, and consort pals' natural habitats accessible and intact, but they were restless and kept returning to the meteor to "help." Unfortunately, they proved to be a lot better at running amok and making messes than "helping."

"Casey, no!" John flew as fast as he could, rocketed up a flight of stairs, and threw out his arms, stabilizing the precariously tilting stone wizard statue with the Windy Thing. Phew. The weighty monstrosity had been just about to topple all the way down. Straining his powers a little, John levitated the statue, setting it down beside the staircase.

Wiping his brow in relief, the boy gazed sternly down at the group of bubbly-mouthed salamanders, Casey in the lead, gathered around a crudely-constructed, now-empty pushcart. "Bad Casey!" he scolded. "Bad salamanders! What are you doing hauling this ugly old thing around?"

"Oh! Is that Bubbles?" A disembodied voice came from above. 

Looking up, John watched as a human figure descended, today's purple strappy sundress fluttering in his Breeze. Rose landed daintily among the salamanders. With a happy squeal, Casey leapt into the girl's arms, webbed feet motoring as she licked her face like a neglected puppy.

"Viceroy Bubbles von Salamancer! Well met indeed, good sir!" Holding the wriggling salamander at arm's length, Rose's nose wrinkled as the salamander continued its licking spree. "Yes, yes, I missed you too."

"Rose?” John landed less-gracefully beside her, scratching his head. “How do you know Casey?”

"Oh, was this salamander originally with you? I was wondering how he got into my room in LOLAR. He was my most loyal henchman, but I had to leave him behind when Jack showed up."

"Ah. That explains the wizard statue." John nodded towards it. "He… she… they must have been bringing it to your room, to surprise you. You know, I kinda wish Jade would stop letting these guys run wild all over the meteor! They've been getting into all kinds of trouble."

"Don't worry John, I'm sure they'll settle down soon." Rose smiled, petting a happily gurgling Bubbles/Casey's head. "They were probably just bored while you were all traveling here on the ship."

"Yeah, I guess… Hey! Where did the other ones go?"

While the two kids had been talking, the group of salamanders, minus Bubbles/Casey, had scampered off down the hallway, leaving the wizard statue and their pushcart behind.

"Argh!" John smacked his forehead with his palm. "They'd better not be moving more of our stuff from our planets. They're making messes faster than we can clean them up!" Sighing, John slumped down against the cart. "And we're hardly getting anything done, because Jade, Dave, Davesprite, and Terezi keep arguing over their stupid romance triang—er, square. It's really bumming me out! Plus, I was really hoping to talk to Karkat, but nobody's seen him since breakfast, and—"

"John?"

John looked up, and… uh oh. Rose was giving him a look. John wasn’t as familiar with real-life Rose as he was with Pesterchum Rose, but their years of internet conversations led him to guess that this particular look meant John’s brain was about to get picked over something fierce.

“Y-yes, Rose?”

Rose was gazing at John from beneath long blonde lashes, mouth twisted in a smirk. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but I've been under the impression that you and Karkat talked quite a bit during the latter stage of our adventures in Sburb, no?”

“Well, yeah!” John was a little puzzled. “We sure did! So many conversations! Pages and pages and pages.”

“I see.” Rose smiled to herself, lightly stroking Casey’s head like an evil genius petting an overly-pampered cat. “Hmm… “

“Hang on a sec.” John’s eyes narrowed. “Just what are you ‘hmming’ about, Rose?

“Oh, nothing in particular.”

“Are you sure? I don't like it when you ‘hmm!’”

“Well…” A twinkle was beginning to show in Rose's eyes. “And this is not to imply anything, you understand…”

“Suuure.”

“This is just an outside observer’s perspective, but… it's interesting, how concerned you seem to be for him. It's really quite touching, you know.”

“Whoa!” John took a big step back, holding up both hands. “Not to imply anything, my butt! You're definitely trying to imply something here, and I'm not sure if I like it!” Sticking out his lower lip, the boy added, “Anyway, what’s wrong with being concerned for a friend?”

Rose continued petting Bubbles/Casey silently for a moment, as if musing over her thoughts. John felt his palms begin to sweat as he waited.

“John, as you know, I fancy myself a bit of a psychoanalyst.”

John groaned. “Yes, I’m very much aware of that.” 

He noticed, as Rose leaned back against the wizard statue and gazed steadily at John, how she reminded him of his dreaded school counselor. Really, all she needed to complete the resemblance was an armchair and a clipboard. He wasn’t the only one who noticed her change in demeanor. Watching the girl’s expression, Bubbles/Casey abruptly stopped his/her licking, and stood at attention by Rose’s feet, as if sensing that his/her mistress had entered Serious Business mode.

“I’m curious. Do you think of Karkat as a friend?”

“Well, yeah! Of course! I mean, we’re not enemies, anyway, so.” John frowned. “Rose, you don’t think I… like _-_ like him, do you? Is that what you’re getting at?”

Rose chuckled. “John, it’s hard not to notice the way you look at him.”

John made a choked noise in the back of his throat. “I didn’t look at him in any kind of way!”

“Yes you did, John. You’ve been staring at him. Oogling him. ‘Checking out the goods,’ as Dave would say.” After a suggestive pause, Rose added another word. “Blatantly.”

John threw up his hands. “That’s because I’m afraid he’s going to grind my bones to make his bread, Rose!”

“That’s giants, John, not trolls.”

“Whatever! The way he’s always glaring at me with those huge yellow eyes kinda freaks me out a little, that’s all!”

“Is that why you were so adamant about going after him during breakfast this morning?”

“That’s just!” John stopped. “Look, okay. I’m pretty worried about him, sure. That’s true! But, like I said last night, I don’t get the whole ‘kismesis’ thing, and I’m pretty sure he said he didn’t hate me anymore the last time we talked, anyway!”

“John, you’re forgetting about the other three quadrants.”

John gritted his teeth. This conversation was going down a path he really didn’t like. “Forgetting about and ignoring are two different things, Rose.”

“It’s possible for a troll to have at least four different kinds of romantic feelings for a person,” Rose lectured him anyway. “I know you don’t understand quadrants, but I can tell you from personal experience that the kinds of feelings that drive them aren’t all that different from the kinds of feelings we humans have for one another. Moirallegience is driven by a desire to protect, for example, while auspisticism is driven by the need to direct, and matespritship is driven by sympathy.”

“Oh. I, I guess those aren't really so alien after all, when you put it like that.” John was momentarily taken aback. “But, kismessiness…?”

“Kismesissitude,” Rose corrected, “is often driven by envy.”

John blinked. 

“So, wait. You’re saying Karkat was jealous? Of me? Oookay, that makes no sense, why would he be?”

“You were lucky enough to lead a favorable life, John.” Rose shrugged. “From what I hear, Karkat never had it so easy. Maybe one of the other trolls could tell you more about it. All I was able to glean from them is that Alternian society is fueled by violence, and, first impressions aside, Karkat seems to be something of a pacifist at heart. Very unusual for his species. My personal suspicion is that, given the choice, he would have preferred to lead a more peaceable life, like yours.”

“Really?” The realization was hitting hard, and it left an unpleasant feeling in John's stomach. “Ahh, all that stuff he said to me kind of makes sense now! Our planet was supposed to be their reward for winning the game! Then, I guess it seemed like we humans ruined the trolls' chance at—well, anything—when we caused the Scratch.” John frowned, thinking. “But then, even after saying that he hated me, Karkat kept talking to me. And helping me, too! I don’t get it.”

“I think it’s safe to conclude that he hasn’t hated you for a while, John.”

The furrow in John’s brow deepened. “So, you think Karkat maybe has other kinds of feelings for me now?” 

“Anything’s possible.”

“Aw, Rose. C’mon, don’t be all mysterious with me, not about this! Does he or doesn’t he? And if so, which kind?”

“I couldn’t say.”

“Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?” John crossed his arms, glaring. “It sure sounds like you know more than you’re letting on, Rose!”

“I am sworn to secrecy. However, there may be a way for you to find out for yourself.” Rose was grinning at him, mischievous. John's eyebrows raised. 

"Yeah?"

The grin widened. "Jade's looking for you. She has a… secret proposition for you, as it were."

"Oh really?" John's eyebrows slanted upwards. "Why's it a secret?"

"Maybe you should go see." Rose breezily stood, dusting off her skirt. She gave Bubbles/Casey a final pat on the head before she turned to go. "She said to tell you she's waiting in the temporary dining room. And John?" 

“What?"

"Come alone."

Rose winked, and flitted away.


	8. The Quadrants, Part II

 

 

There is an unspoken language to navigating the quadrants. If you, a human lacking the training and lifelong exposure your troll has had in these endeavors, happen to make a mistake attempting or perhaps merely blundering through these forms of nonverbal communications, your troll partner may end up feeling hurt or wronged. Your troll partner may go as far as to take these feelings personally. Now, your troll partner probably knows, in the back of their mind, you are not part of their culture and as such should not be expected to understand how to show your feelings the proper way. However, this understanding on your part does not ultimately negate your mistake, because your troll partner’s feelings may still be hurt on some visceral level, and whether you meant to do that or not, this will need to be addressed. The best, and only, thing you can do this point, dear reader, is apologize. However, don’t hesitate to gently but sternly remind your troll that you are a different species with different forms of communication and different customs. Remind your partner, they need to work at being more understanding, too.

~ Rose Lalonde

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jade popped into existence. She was flanked on either side by a pair of floating, battery-powered lanterns she'd alchemized recently. Karkat jumped up from where he was sitting with a cat-like yowl, launching his husktop airborne, its insect legs flailing. Jade grabbed it midair with her space powers, lowered it down onto the steel floor safely. She giggled at the sight of the troll's reproachful glare, hair fluffed-up, claws bared. Kar- _cat_ sure lived up to his name! Hehe!

Jade never got tired of abusing her game abilities. After all, what if they didn’t get to keep their abilities when they won the game, and life returned to normal? Better to have fun while she could.

Karkat stuffed his clawed hands into his front sweatshirt pocket, scowled, obviously trying to regain his composure. "What in the anusbleeding fuck are you doing here, Harley?"

"Duh, Karkat. I came to check on you.” Jade rolled her eyes just for having to even answer such a stupid question. "I wanted to see if you were okay after, you know, the stuff that happened this morning."

A look of confused surprise flitted across the troll's face. "I…"

"Oh yeah, and one more thing. Did you assault my idiot ecto-brother in the computer lab last night?"

Karkat yanked his hands out of his front pocket and scuttled back a few steps, mouth hanging open in silent protest. Jade walked forward to keep pace with him, lanterns following, smile bright. "Just curious! See, I noticed he left our room to go for a walk last night, and this morning he was acting funny. He also had some very specific-looking scratch marks on both of his arms!” Jade raised one hand and made finger-claws. “Know anything about that?"

"I, I.” The troll stuttered and trailed off, looking down at his feet, abashed. “Shit, I was out of it, he woke me up from a nightmare, I don't even remember what happened in that lab, I swear.” Karkat stopped. Grimaced. "I came to afterthe damage had already been done. But…" Shamefaced, he looked down at his own unsheathed claws in dismay. Not able to meet Jade’s gaze, Karkat muttered, "This looks pretty bad, huh?"

Jade laughed, and Karkat’s jaw dropped. "Aww, poor John! He barely slept at all afterwards, you must've scared him to death! But, I guess it serves him right for annoying you while you were trying to sleep."

"Um. But.” Karkat cocked his head to the side, brow creasing. "Wait. You're not mad at me?"

“Wrong, I am mad!” Jade backed the troll up further, striding forward, getting right in his face. "But not for that reason! John's a dork, but he's a god tier dork and he can take care of himself. As for you," Karkat flinched as Jade pointed an accusing finger at him, "you've been missing in action all day long, mister! What do you have to say for yourself?"

Raising his head again a tiny bit, Karkat cringed like he was expecting to get hit. "What the fuck do you mean by 'in action?'"

Jade shrugged and turned away, fearlessly showing Karkat her back, tapping the bottom of her chin with one finger. "Oh, I dunno. There's just been sooo much commotion since we arrived. I mean, we've been super busy with moving in, nothing but drama, chaos, pandemonium everywhere! I kept thinking, hmm, what's missing here? Then, it hit me. We sure could use some kind of big, strong leader-type-guy to keep everybody in line!"

Though her back was turned, Jade could distinctly feel the location of each object in space with her powers. She felt Karkat's head drooping as he stared down at the floor. Felt him shuffling his feet, uncomfortable. 

"So?” She heard him speak finally, in an uncharacteristic, muted voice. “So, I dunno. Go find one.”

Groaning, Jade wheeled around and took the little troll by the shoulders, shaking him. "Nooo Karkat, stoooop! Stop it. Stop being so gloomy, and thickheaded, and, and—!”

Karkat pushed the girl away, eyes narrowed. "What, don't like the truth?" He showed his teeth, a low rumble in the back of his throat. "You said you wanted a 'big, strong' leader. Harley, look at me. I am clearly neither of those things!" Then, he deflated. "And, I'm not going to fucking pretend to be those things anymore."

"You are such a literal fucking dumbass!" Jade stomped her foot. "Look, okay, 'big' metaphorically can mean, like, ‘big-hearted.’ And 'strong' can mean 'having a strong character' or whatever—"

"Wow, stretching the meanings of words a little, don't you think?"

"Oh my God, who even cares about the semantics? You know what I'm trying to say. Our team needs you back, Karkat—"

"No your ‘team’ doesn't. I'm a major fuckup. I'm the last thing you need around here—"

"Everybody misses you!"

"Yeah bulgemuching right. Good one, Harley." Karkat snorted. “Okay, the fact that you seem to actually care doesn't strain my frontal credibility lobe much, being as you’re a bucktoothed ignoramus who actually believes in her own ‘friendship is magic’ drivel and probably defecates fucking rainbows, too. But don’t pretend that anybody with a functioning thinkpan feels the same way.”

“But they do!” Jade decided to let the ‘bucktoothed ignoramus’ bit slide, since Karkat appeared to be making a rapid descent back into Desperately-Needs-To-Pop-A-Zoloft-Ville.

“That is a crock of undisguised, downright, utter, rock-solid hoofbeastshit, Harley, and you know it. Nobody on this fucking meteor gives a hoofbeast’s diseased right shame globe whether I’m alive or dead, and you are too much of an empty-headed hoofbeast’s ass yourself to even notice.”

“If you can forget about your weird hoofbeast tangent for a minute, you know what I've noticed?” Jade squared her chin, determined not to rise to the bait. “I've noticed that your friends totally do care about you! They’re all worried about you, too! Terezi and Kanaya told me so themselves!”

"Sure, Jade. Right. Only you could be gullible enough to buy that hoofbeastshit. Fuck, no, you'd buy the whole reeking hoofbeast-drawn-vehicle-load, and the lame, decrepit hoofbeast pulling it, too. Nobody misses me.”

“I missed you, asshole!"

Jade had been walking closer and closer all the while as they argued, until finally she backed the troll into a corner. Once she had her prey right where she wanted him, Jade threw her arms around Karkat, hugging him tight, despite the loud, inarticulate sound of disapproval he made, and the fact that his whole body had gone stiff as a board.

Jade tightened her grip. "You're the rudest, most foul-mouthed, biggest pain in the ass friend I've ever had, and I really, really missed you."

Jade released Karkat. Karkat didn't move. Not even a little bit. Big, round eyes stared up at Jade, glowing like the headlights of a car, reflecting the light of her lanterns. She smiled, delighted by how similar troll eyes were to some kinds of nocturnal Earth animal’s. Like owl eyes, or maybe cat eyes. "So, is there any chance you’ll let me see you without that dumb hoodie hiding your dumb face, fuckass?"

"Like hell. It's cold as the innermost regions of a snowbeast’s ass in here.” Karkat dug his claws into the fabric of his sweatshirt, pulling it more tightly around him.

"Oh c'mon! Just for a minute! Kanaya and Terezi don't go around all bundled up like you, you're just exaggerating!"

"Sweet lususfucking human Jesus! Fine, if it means so much to you.” Karkat reached down, grabbed the hem of his hoodie and yanked it up over his head, struggling as the hem temporarily snagged on his horns. Freeing the garment, he hesitated on the verge of tossing it on the ground, choosing to fold it carefully over his arm instead. Karkat spoke again, loud, voice betraying a slight tremor. "Although for your information, Kanaya and Terezi have their adult bodies, and I'm still in my juvenile state, so I get cold a lot fucking easier, alright?"

"Holy shit, you're seriously wearing a turtleneck sweater under that, too?" Jade chortled, clapping a hand over her mouth though she was unable to conceal her bucktoothed grin. “Oh my gosh, Karkat, you're..."

"Don't you dare say what I think you're about to say."

"So…"

"Don't say it, Harley."

"CUUUTE!!!"

“And you said it. Unbelievable. Well, you know what, you can just cram that sentiment straight up your nook and—"

"Karkat, I know what you talked about with Kanaya earlier!"

"—go fuck yourself with an oversized, grossly-deformed piece of. Wait. What?"

"Yeah, she told me what you were planning. So, I figured I'd help make sure you didn’t chicken out!"

Jade reached into Space, and with a twist of her fingers, John popped into existence beside her. Reeling from the sudden teleportation, the boy uttered, "Whoa, hey! What the…?" Squinting in the light of the floating lanterns, John took in the two figures before him in confusion. "Uhh, Jade? I thought you were going to meet me in the dining room. What's going on?"

Fuming, Karkat thrashed the air with a fist. "That's exactly what I’d like to know! What the node-fondling hell, Harley?" Karkat whirled to face the boy, voice darkening. "Egbert, there is something seriously the fuck wrong with your familial genetic clone!"

"That's 'twin,' dummy.” Jade chuckled. "Whelp, gotta go. Play nice, boys!"

With that, she clicked her heels together twice like Dorothy from _The Wizard of Oz_ , and disappeared, leaving the floating lanterns and the two utterly bewildered boys behind her.

 

 

His hair looked like it would destroy any comb with the audacity to come near. The nubby horns poking out at the top of the tousled mess were only barely visible, if not for their bright yellow and orange hue, they would have vanished completely. For the first time, John was able to see the troll’s pointy-ended ears. The thinness of his neck. His narrow, bony shoulders.

How in the world had Jade gotten Karkat to take his sweatshirt off? 

Karkat had a round face, boyish and soft, though he was clearly doing his best to create an illusion of sharp edges with his deeply-incised scowl. His brows looked stuck at a perpetually downward angle, the wrinkles on the bridge of his button nose looked like they might have been permanent. He had raccoonish dark circles under his eyes, making the yellow sclera stand out like fiery beacons. His jagged upper fangs stuck out a little in the front, though his canine teeth weren’t nearly as long or sharp as Kanaya’s or Terezi’s. Karkat kind of looked like a baby demon to John. Like he might be scary-looking someday, maybe.

Looks could be deceiving, though. John had learned this the hard way. Nervous, he took a single step back, heart beating fast. But, once he’d decided Karkat probably wasn't going to to leap on top of him and try to rip him apart with his bare hands this time, John spoke up.

“H-hi, Karkat!” John gave a shy smile and a small wave. “Yeah, um… just so you know, I had no idea Jade was going to do this! Well. I didn’t think she was going to do it right now, anyway. But it's okay, because, uh, I actually wanted to talk to you anyway! If you don't mind, that is." 

The troll’s lips immediately pulled back in a silent growl even as he shrank back, which made John inadvertently think of a cornered puppy trying to look tough. The effect was more adorable than anything else—

What the? John couldn’t believe he’d just mentally used the word ‘adorable’ to describe Karkat Vantas. But, without the sweatshirt hiding his face… wow, Karkat was so different from what John had expected! From all those caps-locked torrents of descriptive obscenities, all that bragging, all those “leadership” rants, John had imagined someone older-looking, taller, tougher. Instead, standing before him was a waifish boy who barely fit into his own clothes. Could this really be the same Karkat? 

"Fine. Whatever. I sort of wanted to talk to you too. I guess.” The troll broke the silence at last, raising himself up to gaze levelly at John. Or, more accurately, to gaze at John from about five inches below. 

Heh.

"Oh, um… okay.” John was taken somewhat aback. "Do you want to go first?"

"Yes.” Karkat made a hissing sounds under his breath, face contorting as if in pain. “Yes, I do. Let me just say this quickly, before the overwhelming urge to rip out my bone bulge and use it to lacerate my own vocal membranes to shreds of uselessly flapping flesh, thus rendering myself blissfully mute, becomes too powerful to resist."

The corner of John's lip quirked up. Never mind, this was definitely the same Karkat. "Haha, are you sure you're going to say it quickly? Because it kind of sounds like you're about to go off on one of your wacky tangents.” Just like in their Pesterchum conversations, John found himself giving into the urge to tease. Really, how could anybody resist? It was alarmingly easy to send Karkat over the edge, into a histrionic fit of arm-flailing and neverending word-vomit.

Which was why is was shocking to hear him say only a single word in response.

"Sorry."

"Huh?"

Looking like he wanted to die, Karkat started moving one hand in a circling motion. "That's all I wanted to say." A short pause. "Actually, I meant to say it earlier, when we first talked, but. But I didn't. And now. Okay, like I was telling Harley, I don't even remember what the fuck happened in the computer lab—and I have a pretty strong suspicion that, whatever it was, it was your own globe-licking fault—but as woofbeast-girl informed me, I apparently terrorized you to a degree that necessitated immediate waste chute evacuation, so. Sorry. About that, too."

"Oh. Hey, that's… nice of you. I think?” John frowned. "But, um. You don't really need to apologize for either of those things."

"Yes, I do!”

“No, you don’t! I mean, what are you even apologizing for? The lab thing? Like you said, that was my own fault. And the… the thing with Vriska?" John swallowed, gaze slipping off to the side, then back to Karkat. "I don't care what you say, that wasn't your fault! See, neither thing was your fault, so cut it out!”

"John Egbert, you will accept both of my apologies right this fucking instant, or I swear to whatever primitive, ridiculous, and probably nonexistent fucking deities you worship—"

"I don't worship nonexistent deities."

"Fine then, I swear to whatever other undoubtedly equally primitive and ridiculous culturally significant concept—"

"Argh, would you shut up for a minute? There's something serious I need to talk to you about."

"John, this is fucking serious! Holy shit, I should've cracked your flimsy-ass human spinal cord over my fucking knee when I had the chance, I could've just blamed it on the waking rage—"

"Karkat, why were you watching a video of me on your computer?"

The silence in the room was practically a physical presence after Karkat's voice cut off. As John watched, the warmer hues of gray drained completely out of the troll's face, yellow-orange eyes widened in horror.

"Oh my fucking God, you saw that?"

Karkat turned away and bashed his head against the nearest wall, so hard John could hear the loud crack as either Karkat’s skull, or maybe his horns, or both, made contact with solid steel. The boy crinkled his nose as the sound reverberated through the bunker. That had sounded like it hurt.

“My life has hit absolute rock bottom.” Karkat voice was a bit muffled by the wall. “I really thought shit couldn’t get any worse, but life has a way of surprising you, doesn’t it? By which I mean fucking you in every major orifice simultaneously with some kind of rusty, pointed instrument, while performing a vigorous goddamn tap dance on top of any and all dignity you may have tried to keep locked away in reserve.”

“Whoa, whoa! First of all, this reaction is waaay over the top, even for you!” John sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “Karkat, were you like, actually stalking me?” John waited as patiently as he could through another pause, tense. “Because if so…”

“No!” Karkat blurted out. “No, I was just.” Karkat’s voice dropped several decibels. “Just. Trying to understand you.”

“Trying to ‘understand’ me? You think that makes spying on me okay?” John threw his arms out wide. “Whaaat? Are you even hearing yourself? That’s a terrible excuse, Karkat!” 

“You’re a fucking alien, John!” Karkat whirled back around, voice seething. “I… How else am I supposed to…?” Karkat trailed off, teeth digging into his lower lip as he appeared to be struggling to find the right words, a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. John realized, it felt pretty satisfying to be the one chewing Karkat out, for once. And yet. 

Sighing, John succumbed to his better nature. “Okay. Nevermind. I think I get it. It’s alright, I forgive you! And, know what? I want to understand you, too! So, can we maybe just talk this over like sane, rational adults? Without you getting all overly defensive and rambly?”

“God, please, no. Let’s not talk about it.” Karkat twisted the sweatshirt in his hands, looking uncomfortable as could be. “I have a counterproposal. How about, let’s pretend none of this shit ever happened. Go our separate ways. Never speak of it again.”

“How about screw that. Look, just answer one thing, okay? This has been sort of freaking me out, where did you get that video from, anyway? Because, that was me from a few years ago, and I definitely don’t remember anyone taking a video of me then!” 

“Trollian has a timeline feature.” Karkat still looked like he wanted nothing more than to sink down into the floor and disappear. “After Jack forced his way in through the scratch and fucked over our whole session, I ordered my team to begin gathering information on you humans. So we each targeted one of you, and browsed through different video clips from your timelines.”

“Holy crap!” John made a face. “All of you trolls were stalking us?”

“Dammit John! We were not fucking stalking you! We were gathering fucking observational data on the fuckers wethought destroyed our whole fucking world! It was for fucking intel’s sake!”

"Well, you don’t have to 'gather observational data’ on us anymore, do you? I mean, we’re right here. You could just…” John's face went blank as a thought occurred to him. “Hey! You didn’t use your nosy alien software to look at me in the shower or anything like that, did you?”

“Wha?” The implications of what John was suggesting must have hit Karkat then, because the troll reacted as if Bec Noir had just strolled into the room, materialized a recliner to sit in, and started rolling himself a fancy cigar. “NO! OF COURSE FUCKING NOT!” Karkat’s hands wildly executed some kind of universal ‘brain malfunction’ gesture. Then, in a swift motion, he buried his entire face into the sweatshirt he was still carrying. 

Still very loud, even muffled by fabric, Karkat’s voice rattled on. “You think I’m the kind of asshole who would do a fucked up thing like that? John, that is outrageous, and I am deeply and profoundly offended by the very suggestion.”

John, unable to keep a straight face, cracked up. “Dude, I was just joking. You know, I wouldn’t really care all that much if you had looked. I am an alien after all, like you said, I could understand if you were curious.”

“I. Wouldn’t. Do. That.” Flustered, Karkat mashed the black fabric into his face. Wow, he was really freaking out! John had just been needling him, he hadn’t expected this level of overreaction. Not even from Karkat. Relenting, the boy walked over and placed a hand on top of the troll’s head, right between the two little horns, apologetic.

The troll’s hair had a coarse texture, yet it still felt softer than John had expected, almost as though each thick strand of hair was coated with its own miniature hairs. John was again reminded of spider legs. So cool!

Karkat stiffened and jerked back, teeth bared. “Don’t touch me!”

“Sorry! Just… you need to calm down, okay?” John raised both hands, palms out. “I’m not mad at you! Like I said, I totally understand!”

“Understand? What the fuck is there to understand? …Wait,” Karkat’s eyes widened in realization, “aargh! You don’t believe me? You still think I…?!”

“Um. Welllll. If it had been me—” That was all he needed to say before Karkat was prodding him in the chest with one extended claw.

Ouch.

“Now you look here, you brazen pervert, you get your obviously trauma-damaged thinkpan out of the cylindrical solid waste products sluiceway right this instant! If you think I would be at all interested in gazing upon your revolting, pink-colored, flaccid, pansy-ass human state of undress in any capacity—”

“Heh, methinks the lady doeth protest too much.” The words had slipped out of John’s mouth before he remembered he’d learned that quote from Jade, back when she’d been giving him a hard time about his own closeted sexuality. D’oh.

“Methinks the ‘lady’ is going to gut you laterally with her sickle and pour her boiling rage acid into your gaping cavity until every single one of your blood vessels bursts in a shower of ugly as fucking shit human-red vengeance if you don’t shut your fucking yap, Egbert.”

“Rage acid? It sounds like you just made that up! And why human-red? Is it because you’re so used to gray, is that what color we look to you? I dunno, I think your metaphor-crafting skills are slipping, Karkat.”

Karkat pulled away. Closing his eyes, he exhaled, heavy.

“Yes, rage acid is a thing I made it up for dramatic effect.” Karkat spoke in a slow, talking-to-idiots voice, eyes opening to glare, reproachful. “And red is not the color of your skin, it’s the color of your fucking blood. Right? Mutant-red? Or, what would you call it, disease-red? Pustule-red? I don’t know, we don’t have, whatever that red shit coloring your insides is, on our Hemospectrum.”

“Huh?” John’s curiosity piqued. “Oh yeah! What’s this emo spectrum thing you guys talk about all the time?”

“ _Hemo_ spectrum, imbecile!” Karkat rubbed his forehead and groaned. “And no, don’t even fucking ask, I am not explaining that one to you. Ask, I dunno. Ask fucking Pyrope. Bet she’ll even tell you what each color tastes like, if you ask nice.”

“You trolls care a lot about colors, huh? Is that because of this Hemospectrum thing?”

“Yes! And that’s all the information you’re getting out of me, fuckwad. That, and I guess you should also know that your stupid blue eyes paired with your gross red blood are a major parts of what pisses me the fuck off about you. Like, is it complementary colors with your species or something?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” John came a little closer, trying to get a better look at Karkat’s irises. Gray, just like his skin. Huh. “Is eye color supposed to have something to do with blood color?”

“Huh? Wait, it’s not even related with you?” Looking every bit as confused as John felt, Karkat stammered, “You… you just…! Argh, I don’t know, maybe humans are different? But, fuck you for having eyes are so fucking blue, you piece of fucking shit!”

The troll's hand flicked in the direction of John's face, and John shied away. But Karkat had quick reflexes, and it turned out he was only going for John’s glasses. Karkat snatched them off and leaned in to stare hard at John. 

"Hey! I can't see without those!" Blindly John tried to take his glasses back, but Karkat had been reduced to a black-and-gray-colored blur. He sidestepped the boy’s flailing easily.

"Hold still, I want a closer look at those squinty pus-orbs that your species tries to pass off as oculars.”

"My eyes are not squinty pus-orbs! Why would you even say that? Ew!”

John held still for a moment anyway. Karkat's face came into focus as he leaned close to John, his dimple of a snub-nose barely an inch away from John's wider, flatter nose. He realized that the troll must have been standing on his tiptoes in order to reach. Karkat's stare was pretty intense! Geez, didn't he ever blink? 

John ruined the staring contest, starting to laugh. "Pfft! Haha, Karkat, your facial expressions are even better in real life than the ones I was imagining!”

Growling, Karkat shoved John and began speaking a mile a minute. "That's unbelievably rich coming from you! You are repugnant, John Egbert, your face is simultaneously the most lamentably unfunny prank that the universe has ever pulled and also a potential weapon of mass destruction." He thrust John's glasses back at him. "Here, quick, take back your vision-correcting apparatus and use it to cover your hideousness immediately, before this meteor and all of paradox space explodes from the sheer gut-wrenching horror that is your monstrously deformed physiognomy."

John laughed harder as he repositioned his glasses, pausing to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes. "I can't believe you really do that! In real life!” 

"Do what, notice when some shit right in front of my face is butt-ugly as all fuck? John, you don't have to be even moderately observant to pick up on—”

"No, I mean your rage rants! Where'd you even get a vocabulary that big? Are you reading a Troll-to-English dictionary every night to improve your sick burns?"

"No John, my superior grasp on your human English language is merely due to the fact that I’m immeasurably smarter than you. Which isn’t saying much, I'm nowhere fucking close to immeasurably smart, you're just immeasurably fucking stupid, and—"

"Yeah, yeah, and you can't fucking stand me, right? Alright already, I knooow." John leaned closer. "Do you keep a list of all the best insults next to your bed?"

"Shut the fuck up.” Karkat’s voice dropped to a mumble. Turning away, he began kneading his hoodie in his hands, curling into himself to shut John out.

"Aww, that one wasn't very original.” John frowned. Watching Karkat twist the hoodie, John wondered whether the troll was fighting off some terrifying, violent urge. Further smartass remarks died on his lips. 

Nervous, John realized he probably needed to tread more carefully in real life than online. Teasing Karkat until he got pissed off and shouty off was funny when all Karkat could do in return was spew line after line of all-caps insults. John was pretty sure getting a fistful of claws to the face would be a lot less funny.

“Um…”

John wanted to salvage the ruined conversation, but he honestly couldn’t think of anything to say. He’d gotten Karkat talking again, Karkat had seemed normal, he’d seemed fine. What had gone wrong? 

“Was there some other reason you wanted to talk to me? Or are we done here?”

John jumped a little. “Oh yeah! Um… well. I just, you know, wanted to see how you were doing.”

Karkat turned his head back around and glared at John out of the corner of one eye. “Why?”

“Why?” John scratched his head. “Because you went missing all day! I was worried about you. I mean, everyone. Everyone was worried about you.”

“Damn it all, first Harley and now you. You never stop, do you?” Karkat’s eyes smoldered so hot they looked like they could bore holes in John from a distance. “That fucking friendleader shtick. Give it up, will you? It’s about as worthless as you are, which for your information is a whole fucking lusus-load.”

“Aww, you don't still hate me, do you?" John flinched when he realized what he'd just said. Oh. Oh shit. So that was what Karkat was angry about. Well, that was a pretty crappy segue, but John had been meaning to get around to apologizing for his insensitivity regarding Karkat’s weird alien feelings anyway. Might as well quit beating around the bush.

Karkat's face had turned a much darker shade of gray as soon as John mentioned the word hate. "What? No. Fuck no, that was a long time ago, and, and shit, I was wrong anyway! I never even hated you, I fucking told you that already! Oh, and screw you for bringing it up again!"

“No, stop! That's not what I meant!" John bit his lip. "Karkat, look, I want to tell you something. On the ship, I re-read our chats—”

"Holy shit! You did what?" Karkat made a choking noise, burying his head in his hands. "Egbert, what in a million nooksucking solar sweeps would possess you to go back and re-read that moronic, embarrassing drivel that I wrote while in the middle of a relentless marathon of sleep deprivation and nervous fucking breakdowns? Were you combing through it for blackmail material or some shit?"

"No way! I was just trying to learn more about, um, troll feelings, I guess?"

"Why?" Karkat glared at John from the gaps between his fingers. "Since when do you give a shit about troll feelings?”

Now it was John's turn to be red-faced. "Um, well, at the time, because of Vriska…"

“Fuck.” Karkat turned away.

"No, wait, that's not—!" John fumbled with his hands. "Gah. Sorry. I shouldn't have even brought her up."

"Why not. You have every right to."

"No but, I was talking about you. Your feelings for me, I mean."

"Fuck off, I have exactly zero feelings for you, John. There's a gigantic void right in the middle of my bloodpusher that is approximately the shape and size of my feelings for you, and I thought I'd made it glaringly obvious."

"Wow, okay, I totally don't believe you about the void thing."

Karkat whirled back around to face him. "Do I look like I'm lying, John?"

"Um, actually, you look like you're about to cry.” John bit his lower lip, oh no, it was true, Karkat really did. “Shit, sorry… this isn’t what… I didn’t mean to…”

“F-fuck you so unbelievably much!" Karkat snarled, whipped back around, hid his face in the cloth of his hoodie again. He was shaking. John wanted to, to. He didn't know what, shit. 

Karkat continued talking into the fabric. "Egbert, I cannot for the life of me think of one plausible explanation for why you insist upon continuing to flog this heinous, stinking, dead hoofbeast carcass of a conversation. It's as though you're actually brain-damaged enough, you expect it to leap to its feet and enthusiastically pull a four-wheeled device full of all the shit spewing from your ugly stupid pink mouth. And yes, I brought that metaphor back, tell Harley she can fucking deal with it."

In spite of the sheer amount of venom he'd managed to pack into each word, the troll's voice was wavering. Oh no. Was he actually crying? It kind of sounded like he was. John had no idea what to do.

"Hey, stop talking for a second! I wanted to—"

"Or maybe you just have a thing for dead hoofbeasts?" Karkat babbled over John, undeterred. "Is that it? You didn't strike me as the perverted type at first, more the drooling idiot type, but you have to assume any asshole depraved enough to lob a fucking filial pail into the face of somebody he has no romantic interest in whatsoever would be into some pretty fucked up shit. Whatever, I don't care!"

“Oh God, that was. I forgot buckets were. Hey, you're doing a pretty bad job of acting like you don't care!”

"No, I'm doing a perfect job of acting like I'm singularly apathetic to everything, which is because guess what? That's exactly what I am. I'm just… just tired of this shit, okay? Jesus Human Christ, I am so fucking tired of this."

Karkat was definitely crying. Seemed Dave hadn't been lying about the nervous breakdowns. Shit, John hadn't expected Karkat to be this unstable. How the heck was he supposed to calm him down? John didn't think he should succumb to his urge to give Karkat a friendly pat him on the back. Definitely shouldn't try to hug him. Karkat's hands were balled into fists, nails digging into the skin to the point that they looked like they should have been drawing blood. John wasn't sure Karkat even realized how badly his behavior was starting to freak John out, but at this point John didn't dare point it out for fear of making the troll flip out even worse than he already was.

"Karkat, geez, if you'll let me get a word in edgewise, um, well, I should really be the one apologizing.” John fidgeted, trying to figure out what to do with his hands. "What I was trying to say was, I was reading through the pesterlogs, and… I, I really thought, at the time, that you were just saying mean stuff because you didn't like me. And, I said mean stuff back because you were being mean, and later I found out that would be considered, like, flirting in your culture, I guess. I didn't understand kismesis…ism. Uhh, I still don't really. I didn't have time to try to understand, with everything that was happening. I know a lot of the stuff I said to you was probably really insensitive, and I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to—shit, reading though it all again, I realized you basically, like, troll asked me out, and I just kind of laughed at you. I feel like such an asshole now."

Nothing. Silence.

"Oh God, please say something Karkat, I'm babbling like an idiot here, just tell me to shut up and I will, I promise—"

"John," Karkat said quickly, "shut the fuck up."

"Heh. Okay.” John felt at once relieved and a little hurt. 

He wasn't sure what he'd expected. This was Karkat. It wasn't like Karkat was ever going to be like, “I forgive you, John. And I don't think you're an asshole, I think you're a pretty great guy actually. Let's be best friends.”

Oh hell, John wasn’t even sure that that was what he even wanted anymore. Was Rose right? Were Dave and Jade right? With their dumb knowing smiles, their annoying insinuations?

Squeezing his eyes shut, John blurted, “You know, I, I’m not totally against the idea of maybe, like, troll going out with. I mean. Being in some kind of relationship with you. Anymore.”

Wait, what.

What was he saying.

Karkat turned back to face John, tear-streaked face looking betraying hurt and confusion. John was startled to see Karkat really did cry blood-red tears. Dave hadn't been making that up, either.

"Is this one of your fucking pranks, Egbert? Because if so, it’s the shittiest attempt at humor I’ve ever had the misfortune of witnessing.” Karkat sounded so dejected. John seriously considered hugging him again, although he ultimately decided that that was still a terrible idea and would definitely end with him maimed, if not dead.

“I… I… no! I mean, I don’t know.” Panicked, John started backpedaling as quickly as possible. “I’m not sure what I’m even saying right now. Wow, I’m sorry! What was I thinking? You already said you didn’t have a thing for me anymore, I just. Oh gosh, that was really shitty of me. And you're kind of a wreck, for, um, understandable reasons, I mean, I know you’re going through a lot, and I don't want to hurt you anymore than you already are, so, even though I don't want to, maybe we should, you know.”

John trailed off. Karkat looked like he'd been slapped in the face, and John felt like the biggest asshole. John Egbert, King of the Assholes, that was him. Somebody ought to put a crown on his head and a scepter in his hand already.

“Maybe we should what?” Karkat stared blankly at the ground, wiping the corners of his eyes with his sleeve.

“Um. We should.” John tried hard to think rationally. “We should both probably sleep on it. You know, figure out where our heads are at, and talk about it some more, later, after we’ve had some rest and time to think it over. And stuff.”

Karkat didn’t speak for a moment. Then, resolute, he un-crumpled and folded the hoodie he’d been worrying in his hands. He yanked it back over his head, hiding himself again behind a force field of black fabric.

Stuffing his hands into his front pocket, looking away, Karkat mumbled, “Yeah, you’re right. Sounds good.”

“Okay.” John laughed nervously. “So.” He didn’t know what to say now. This was unbelievably awkward. “So, um. See you tomorrow, then?”

After a long hesitation, the troll nodded. “Tomorrow.” 

Relieved, John turned to go, but was halted as the troll’s voice suddenly rang out.

“Wait!”

He turned, and to his surprise, Karkat was standing right behind him. His sweatershirt hood had fallen back, and he was looking up at him, yellow showing all around the grays of his eyes. Reaching out towards him. What was he…?

Hand shaking, the troll lightly touched John’s face. He left his hand there, stare unbroken. John began to feel uncomfortable.

“Hey. What are you doing?”

“Oh.” A look of realization. “I-I don’t even know. Shit!” Karkat flinched and jerked away, horror growing on his face. “Ugh, I’ve been spending too much time with Gamzee. Humans don’t have intra-dermal hormone receptors, do they?”

“Not that I know of?”

“Fuck it then, never mind.”

“What was…?”

“A stupid, meaningless troll thing. Forget it.”

“But!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, John.”

“Oh… okay.”

Turning to go again, Karkat’s voice stopped John once more.

“Oh for the love of fucking shit, I almost forgot!”

“What?”

Stepping briskly forward, Karkat decaptchalogued something and handed it to John, thrusting the thing into the boy’s arms before he had the chance to question whether to accept it or not.

Blinking, John held up a distinctive blue pajama-like shirt with a long, goofy windsock hood. John remembered it being torn to pieces, but here it was whole again, sewn back together with such expertise, he couldn’t tell where the fabric seams ended and the repairs began.

“After breakfast, I asked Kanaya if she could fix that stupid thing for you.” Karkat looked down at the floor like he was trying to bore a hole in the steel with the sheer ferocity of his glare.

"You…?" John’s voice wavered, uncertain. "Oh. Well! That's really surprising!" He noticed the mortified expression on the troll's face. "But, thanks," he added hurriedly. "Thanks a lot! This means a lot to me, really."

Karkat nodded, then he turned. "I should probably go…"

"Oh sure, okay.” John nodded hard. "Um, goodnight, Karkat! Get some sleep, okay?"

"Yeah, right.” Without looking back, Karkat stepped onto a transportalizer and vanished.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art quality is inconsistent. Yes. It is. I attribute this to three things. One, I was using sketchbook mobile on my phone for the three sketchy ones, but by the time I drew the fourth (second to last picture, obvs), I'd upgraded to sketchbook pro. Highly recommend. Two, the sketchy three were drawn all in one go, while for the fourth I went back and decided to add one more picture since the rest were clumped out in the beginning of the chapter. Three, I've started practicing (on paper) again and my art is slowly but surely improving. Cue tears of happiness and frustration.  
> 'Nuff of that noise, I hope you all enjoyed chapter eight. Hopefully chapter nine comes faster, but I can promise nothing as life is complicated. Actually wait, the next one is short. I can probably pull that off.


	9. Interlude

The coolest half-boy, half-ghost, half-crow on the meteor—and yes, mathematically speaking that was too many halves, but who the hell was counting?—drifted round and round in aimless circles, high above the baking-hot surface of the meteor.  
The wind rustled through the feathers of his one intact wing, and the corners of his lips quirked ever so slightly upwards as he contemplated the sheer ridiculousness of just about everything. Like why there was even wind in space. And how he could still fly with only one wing. Also, just what the fuck had gone wrong with his love life.  
His half-smile wavered, then vanished, fading to a worried frown. That was okay. Up here, miles above and away from everything and everyone, he didn't have to keep up any bullshit appearances anymore. Davesprite was worried. Lost. Confused. As in, he didn't know what to do. That was a thing that happened to him on rare occasions, although previously nobody but himself and his Bro had ever needed to know about it.  
But now, Bro was gone. Davesprite had nobody at all to talk to.  
That, Davesprite thought, was damn near the top of the list of reasons why this game sucked major balls. It kept taking things away from you. Things you'd relied on, things that had made you strong, kept you going. “Tests of character," the little voice of his built-in sprite game guide whispered in the back of his head. He shifted out of that fake-ass Jiminy Cricket voice, imperceptible and smooth as if he were cross-fading a track on his bro’s turntables, because fuck that noise.  
Davesprite didn't know what to do, and that was a problem. Totally sweet, badass motherfuckers like himself were always supposed to know what to do, right? Especially in the game of love, that was where totally sweet, badass motherfuckers like himself were supposed to shine brighter than the light of a thousand paparazzis' cameras flashing off the icy grills of a rapper whose debut record had just gone platinum. But this situation wasn't exactly normal. Davesprite wasn't sure what being a self-prototyped, offshoot version of his original self was going to mean in the long run, but he'd personally disposed of enough Dave-corpses throughout the passage of the game to at least understand the implications of alternate timelines pretty fucking intimately.  
Shit was not sitting well with him.  
Davesprite wasn't sure whether Sburb's programming would even allow him to be ported over to the next session in his sprite state. What would happen to him if he tried? Would he lose the prototyping he'd gained in his own session, and just turn back into a regular doomed-timeline Dave, plus a dead bird? Or was he now stuck as a half-boy, half bird forever? Would the prototyping shenanigans of the alpha session’s players warp him again, turn him into a half-boy, half-something-else?  
Worst of all, there was also the possibility Sburb might treat him as a full-on game construct at this point. He could be deleted in the new session, reduced to so much data. He could vanish altogether. None of those options would be fair to Jade, but what could Davesprite do? Code didn't give two shits about love, code did whatever its programmer told it to do—in Sburb’s case, generating universes, populating them with sentient life, then allowing them to blow up if said sentient life turned out to be lousy player characters. Which was 100%, straight-up whack, come to think. But all that was beside the point.  
Much as he wished he could avoid it, Davesprite knew there was only one right thing to do in this situation. Even if he wasn't slated for eventual deletion, he was still technically the same guy as original Dave. Which meant he was one guy dating two girls. He couldn't keep thinking of himself and original Dave as separate beings. They weren't.  
Revisiting the whole "not having anybody to talk to" deal, Davesprite now realized that wasn't true. Nobody ever had nobody to talk to. Technically, there was always, at any given moment, at least one person with whom one could shoot the shit.  
"Hey."  
Speak of the devil.  
"Hey."

  
Davesprite gave a slight nod in Dave's direction, and received an identical slight nod in return. Dave had drifted up to float beside his alternate self using his god powers, seemingly thinking on the same wavelength as his other self. Of course he was. He was his other self. And his other self was him.  
"So, being as you're me," Davesprite began, "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess that you're thinking what I'm thinking."  
Dave gave Davesprite a small frown, reflecting the same level of emotional turmoil he was feeling. They were both feeling.  
“Wanna talk about it?"  
"Nah. Not really.” Davesprite shrugged his one wing in a manner characteristic of a totally sweet, badass motherfucker who didn't give one single solid fuck about shit. Nor did the gesture imply he gave several multitudes of liquid fucks about shit, for that matter. To be clear, the gesture proclaimed loud and clear, Davesprite didn’t give any fucks of any number about shits of any variety whatsoever. And for those not paying attention, that added up to precisely zero fucks given, altogether. Dave returned the gesture, and though the boy’s shoulder was lacking a totally badass magical bird wing, the gesture was no less badass. Nor was it any less of an obvious lie.  
"Yeah, me neither.” Dave paused to flick his god-cape, blown askance by the nonsensical meteor breeze, back over his shoulder. "So. When are you gonna break it off with her?"  
Davesprite sighed, so quiet it probably couldn't even be heard over his counterpart’s fluttering pajama fabric. He hoped it couldn’t. "Dunno. Should probably do it soon, right?"  
"Right.”  
“Get it over with faster, like.”  
“Mmhm. That's the best way."  
"Quick and clean."  
"Fucking hell yeah, that’s the shit I’m talking about.”  
“A rocket-propelled ninja wielding a bottle of Windex in one hand and a Shamwow in the other."  
“Unsurprisingly enough, that is exactly what I was picturing.”  
The two Daves hovered midair for a while without speaking. Together, the chillest pairs of pimps on the meteor chilled. Metaphorically, of course, being as it was actually hotter than Satan's asscrack out here.  
Dave coughed. “I’m glad we had this talk.”  
Davesprite snorted. "No you're not, dude."  
"True.” Dave coughed again, cleared his throat, wiped a few beads of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. "Neither are you."  
“Yeah. No.”  
Nothing more was said. Nothing more needed to be said. Both Daves knew they’d been the underdogs in this sports game from the start. They knew exactly how shitty and unfair the sports referee was. And they both accepted that, in this particular sports arena, floating around all day bitching about it would achieve shit-all, except maybe providing more drama fuel for the sports tabloids.  
It was time to just do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini-chapter for you. Mainpain. Yay. Next chapter after this is even more mainpain, just of the Johnkat variety. It's coming. Prepare.


	10. The Quadrants, Part III

By this point, dear reader, you probably thought I was done talking about the quadrants. To this, I say unto thee nay. I also say unto thee nice try, you’re not getting out of this one so easily, buster. This chapter will discuss what you, a human, presumably, can expect to be able to talk to your troll partner about, versus what you cannot, and also what you should, in this author’s humble opinion, not. Taboo and otherwise ill-advised topics vary depending on which quadrant you are pursuing, and as mixing these up could land you in quite the sticky jam indeed, I strongly advise you listen up. Remembering this advice could be the difference between quadranted bliss and staring down the business end of your partner’s strifekind. Or, in the case of kismesissitude, not staring down the business end of your partner’s strifekind—a sad prospect for any budding blackrom, I’m sure you would agree.

~Rose Lalonde

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

John's initial plan had been to find Rose, and to talk to her about what had happened with Karkat. Rose seemed to know people better than they knew themselves, her game title was "Seer" for a reason. But after thinking it over, John had realized that he wasn't so sure a round of Rose’s unique brand of psychoanalysis was what he wanted in this situation. 

The thing was, while Rose had always been able to help John figure out what he was really feeling, what he really wanted, her style was just so… heavy-handed? Sometimes, finding out the truth from Rose barely even seemed worth the ordeal involved to John. Rose liked to play mind games. She answered questions with more questions, said misleading things when she really meant other things, led John in circles by the earlobe until he stumbled upon the answers on his own. It was probably a lot of fun for her, but it always left him feeling like a chump.

Well, John would probably talk to Rose later, once he had his shit a little more together. Right now, John needed to vent to somebody who wasn't judgmental. Somebody who John could always count on to take his side. Somebody who would never, ever make fun of his feelings, no matter how naive they could sometimes be.

“Wait. He papped you?”

"Um." John frowned at Dave, fidgeting on the pile of puppets. “No, he, he just. Wait. What does that mean?”

It was just John's luck he'd run into Dave waiting outside of Jade's bedroom. Dave had taken one look at the expression on his friend’s face and dragged him into his own room across the hall, currently unoccupied, as Terezi was on dinner-alchemization duty with Nannasprite and Casey the salamander tonight. John didn’t ask how that had happened. He didn’t ask because he’d been plunked down into a pile of plush smuppets on the floor before he could say a word. The fact that there was a smuppet pile in Dave’s bedroom was doing exactly nothing to ease John’s feelings of discombobulation. 

Dave had demanded to know what was wrong. As John was a terrible liar, Dave had figured out the whole story right away.

“You know, a pap.” Dave reached over and touched John’s face, fingers brushing skin softer than a whisper. “Like this.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what he did!” John flicked Dave’s hand away, scowling. “What's that mean?”

Dave shrugged. “Dunno. Trolls have this whole sub-language of chemicals going on. Depending on the hormones involved, a pap can mean a lot of things. Anything from, ‘leave me alone,' to, ‘I wanna have your slimy alien worm babies.’”

John scowled harder. “Well, I think we can rule out that last one. Hopefully.”

Dave laughed. “Who can be sure? Been suspecting Vantas had a thing for you for five evers. A thing of the concupiscent variety, yeah? Vantas gets all flustered any time your name is mentioned. Dude's the type to wear his heart pinned to his sleeve, surrounded by flashing neon lights, decked out with spinning rims, the whole shebang. Surprised the poor motherfucker hasn't dropped to one knee and begged you to troll-marry him yet.”

“Uh.” John’s face faulted. “He kind of did, actually. Over Pesterchum. Awhile ago.”

Dave snorted. “That’s almost as funny as it is sad.”

“It’s not funny at all, Dave.”

"Your right, it's not funny, it's hilarious. And it's not even sad, it's fucking tragic. But let's get real here for a minute."

"I was being real, Dave!"

"John." Dave lowered his shades a crack, face the picture of seriousness. John squirmed, as his friend asked the inevitable question. "Are you planning on asking that douchelord out?"

“Don’t you mean, _human_ asking that douchelord out?” John grinned weakly. “I… I don't know! I mean, that's kind of exactly what I'm trying to figure out right now, I guess!" Groaning, the boy leaned back and flopped heavily over into the pile of puppets, which let out a series of squeaks as he transferred more weight onto their velvety plush. John glared at the puppets, as if daring them to make another sound. John then switched to glaring at Dave, who just stared back, impassive. Finally, John glared up at the ceiling, as if blaming it for all of his troubles.

Dave and Terezi had drawn a sky across the ceiling together, in blue and yellow chalk. On the left, a scribbly gray stick figure with conical orange horns and red, pointy sunglasses reached out a hand from where she sat on a poorly-drawn, blue treetop. On the right, another scribbly pink figure with blonde hair and black shades reached out from the other direction, standing atop what appeared to be a city skyscraper, maybe. Their sticklike fingers were just barely touching in the center of the ceiling, in a blatant and frankly disturbing ripoff of Michelangelo's _The Creation of Adam_.

"Dave, this drawing is hideous. It sucks so bad." To be honest, it sucked more in the, “so sucky, it's awesome” kind of way, but John was tired and cranky and he hated everything right now. Especially things that had the nerve to be in his direct field of vision.

"Sure.” Dave plopped down beside John in the puppet pile and lounged with his arms behind his head. "If by 'sucks,' you mean, 'rules like a megalomaniacal fucking tyrant.' Just look at it. Look how much cross-cultural significance it has. Look how many sincere, deeply-held feelings it conveys. It sucks like a masterpiece, John. Like a fucking masterpiece."

John picked up the nearest smuppet and threw it at Dave. It bounced off the other boy's face with a squeak. Dave didn’t flinch.

"That was rude."

"Yep. It sure was."

"You and Vantas are totally meant for each other."

At that, John picked up another puppet and whacked Dave in the face in earnest, hard enough to send his aviator shades flying across the room. The only reaction this got out of Dave was a cynical gaze, blonde eyebrows arching high over the blood-red eyes he usually kept hidden.

"Hit a nerve, didn't I. Still grappling with a host of no-homo hangups?” Dave crossed his arms over his chest. He could have easily been the accompanying picture for the word "unflappable" in the dictionary. John crossed his arms too, looking more like the posterboy for “resentful.” John blew angrily at a lock of hair that had fallen in his face, though that only caused it to flip up, then flip back down, getting him right in the eye. Dave wasn’t quite able to suppress a laugh.

"Egbert. Jesus, dude. Look, if you really, truly, honest-to-God legitimate like that ranty-assed windbag, quit angsting over it like an eyeliner-wearing _Hot Topic_ employee and just ask him the fuck out already. For Christssakes."

"Mmmhrrg.” John’s face twisted into a mask of emotional turbulence. "Daaaave! I don't know if I like him that way, though! I mean, _God_ , just.” John rubbed his sore eye sockets under his glasses, then glanced at Dave, eyes bloodshot and pleading. "How do you know when you like somebody?"

To John’s consternation, Dave laughed at him again.

"Wow.” Dave shook his head. “You sure did just go ahead and ask me that question. This is happening. Wow, John. Just wow."

"Dave, you are being so unhelpful!" John raked his fingers through his hair, messing it up worse than it had already been. He needed a shower, he realized. Badly. Probably some dinner, too, being as he'd skipped lunch today. And oh, he could use about three more years' worth of sleep, while he was at it. "Maybe.” John sighed. “Maybe, I dunno. Maybe I really am just making way too big of a deal out of all of this? Maybe it's just the exhaustion talking right now. Maybe everything will make perfect sense tomorrow morning."

"Maybe.” Dave shrugged, noncommittal. John got the feeling Dave was still holding back laughter at his expense, and John resented Dave for it, even though John knew he was behaving like a total nutjob right now. He blamed the sleep deprivation.

John wondered, then, whether Karkat had ever gone to bed like he'd told him to. He felt a pang of sympathy as he remembered how done-in the little troll had looked during their talk. Hands shaking like he’d imbibed a few too many mugs of oily coffee from the weird coffeemaker that’d come with the lab. Dark circles under those wasted orange eyes, like he hadn't slept in a million years. "I'm soooo fucking tired." John dug his fingers into his hair and tugged at the strands. “Maybe this is how Karkat feels all the time? No wonder he’s grumpy.”

“Multiply whatever you’re feeling by a lifetime of being a gray-ass alien hiding out on your own planet, friends dying left and right, with nothing to do but watch shitty movies and fuck with people on the internet. Then maybe.”

John felt like there was a stone settling in his stomach. "Dave, why’d you have to go and say something like that? Now I feel really bad. I don't want to ask him out because I feel bad for him, that wouldn't be right."

"Why not? That's kind of what trolls are all about. Hate and pity. Do you pity Karkat?”

John winced. "No! I mean… well, yes, but. But, that kind of doesn't seem fair to Karkat! It's like I'm looking down on him, or something."

"That's not how trolls see it."

John was about to argue, but then he stopped, looking at the mural above and remembering, after three years in intimate company with a troll, Dave might know certain things. “Man, as if relationship stuff wasn’t confusing enough, now I have to figure out confusing alien emotions too?”

"Life is confusing, John. Get used to it."

"Hey.” John rolled onto his side on the smuppet pile, gazing at Dave. "How come you're being so chill about all this?"

"I'm chill about everything. I am the chilliest motherfucker who ever up and chilled." Dave shot him a long-suffering look. "You should know this by now."

"Yeah, but.” John frowned, "you can't stand Karkat, right? I thought he really got on your nerves."

"Dude. You don't even know. He's like one of those shaggy little Yorkshire terriers who never, ever, EVER stops yapping. You know? I just want to kick him across the room sometimes. Get me?”

John snorted. “I kinda know what you mean."

"No accounting for taste. But hey, you have my blessing, regardless.” Dave raised his hands palm-up in surrender. “You're my best bro, if you like the whiny rat bastard then that's all that matters. I guess."

"If I like him? So, you’re saying, you think I do?”

"Yeah, John. You do.”

"I… yeah. Okay. I guess I do."

"Like I said, no accounting for taste."

"Shut up."

"I guess I get what you see in him, though. No homo.”

"Whaaaat?” John sat up stick-straight. “Really? Because I don't even totally get it!"

"John, I’m dating a gray chick with shark teeth, a hair-trigger temper, and a lot of other really terrible character flaws, too. I can relate." Getting up and retrieving his shades, Dave returned to the puppet pile wearing his shades on his head and a smirk on his lips. “When are you gonna human ask him out?”

“I don’t knoooow. I don’t even know if I’m going to, for sure! Quit bugging me about it!”

Dave shrugged. “Well, just lemme know when you know, y’know? Then I can start really yanking your chain about it.”

"Oh my God, Dave, you’re making me want to reconsider.” John buried his face in his hands. Then, he peeked out through his fingers. "Um. Hey. Is there anything I need to know about asking a troll out on a date? Like, important culture-shock-type stuff? Troll taboos us humans don't know about? Any more of your rules?"

John did not like the grin that spread across Dave's face. "Essentially, a shit ton of each of the things you mentioned. But I'm not gonna tell you. Figuring out by trial and error is half the fun."

"Dave! No! If I screw up, Karkat's gonna kill me!" John shot Dave a look of betrayal. "Do you want me to die? I thought we were friends!"

“We’re god tier friends. Dying’s a lot harder these days. Just don't do anything bad enough to warrant a just death. Like, don't cop a horn-feel on the first date. That kind of thing."

"Yeah right, Dave, there's no way that's a thing.”

"That’s totally a thing. Horn-touching is troll first base, don’t tell me you didn’t even know that.”

John stared, eyes half-lidded. “You cannot be serious.”

Dave gazed back at him, grin widening. “One more tip, cause we’re bros. If Vantas starts purring? Do not comment. Do not ‘aww.’ Do not say it’s ‘cute.’ Not if you want to keep all of your teeth in your mouth, anyway.”

"Oh c'mon! Purring? No way! Now you're just fucking with me."

"I am being dead serious."

"Aaargh, no you're not! You're never serious, Dave! You must have been born with some kind of genetic inability to be serious about things! Life must have been so hard for you growing up!”

"John, ignoring that you know firsthand I was an ectoplasm baby, shut up and listen for a sec.” Dave's tone switched from teasing to stern in a millisecond. “For real. This is Rule Number Five, okay? You don't ask questions about Karkat’s childhood. Or any of the other trolls, for that matter. At all. Ever. Got it?"

"Huh?" John frowned, unsure of whether he was still being toyed with. "Whoa, wait, hold on. That's kind of weird. Why not?"

"Because. Think about it, John. You've heard of the trials, right?"

John shook his head.

"No? Well. How to put this…" For once in his life, Dave looked a little lost for words. He fiddled with his shades, which he still hadn't put back on. "Troll society is crap."

"Yeah. I've heard."

"You ain't heard shit. Like, okay. So, when baby trolls are born, the Empire makes sure there are hundreds of thousands of them—that's what the deal with buckets is—so they can take their pick of the litter. Through mass culling."

"Wait, what's the deal with buckets?”

“Dude, you still don't know what the deal with buckets is? Forget it, I retract my blessing. John Egbert, I declare you officially too bed-wettingly immature to be in a relationship with anybody."

"Hey! Dave—!"

“Lemme me finish here, will you? I mean, did you miss the part about murdering babies or what?”

John shut up, going bug-eyed. He was feeling pretty wide-awake now. "'Culling' means…?"

"Yeah. It means that."

"Oh. Oh, holy shit."

“Gets worse. After un-culled baby trolls have their first metamorphosis, they stick them in a kiddie death match arena. Survivors are deemed suitable fleet material. That means they get to live to their second metamorphosis, and after a few sweeps of police-enforced, mandatory boinking to breed more soldiers, they're shipped off into space to go conquer planets for the glory of the Empire, till they die in battle or from tainted grub snacks or whatever the fuck. Ain’t no 401k’s on Alternia. So yeah.” Dave finished in a low voice. “Rose found this out after trying her whole ‘tell me about your childhood’ routine on Terezi. The Rezster was dealing with some shit already and started having PTSD flashbacks. Took ages to calm her down. 10/10 would not recommend.”

John didn't speak. He didn't know what to say. His eyes traced the lines of the steel plating of the floor, stomach knotting. He felt like a gigantic turd for the way he’d been complaining for the past half hour. He was such a know-nothing, dipshit ignoramus.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I am too immature to be in a relationship."

"Don't feel bad. You didn't know.” Dave patted John on the shoulder. "I still think you should go for it, personally." He sighed, wistful. "I miss the good old days when Vantas used to be a stompy, shouty, miniature asshole drill sergeant. Shit was entertaining, and I heard he was actually made a decent leader in the trolls’ game. Guess the nervous breakdowns took their toll.”

"Really?"

“Can you imagine trying to lead a group of emotionally unstable teen psychopaths to victory in a duodecuple-prototyped Sburb campaign?"

"No way."

"Me neither."

“Dave.” John looked up at his friend. “Hey. Um.” He looked down again, swallowing. “Do you think I was a good leader?”

Dave’s eyebrows practically shot to the ceiling. He started to reply. Hesitated. His eyes left John’s, choosing instead to peer over the boy’s shoulder, perusing other scribbly chalk drawings on the wall.

He stalled for long enough, John started to fidget. “Um, because, I kinda don’t think I—”

“Egbert, bud. Look, here’s how I see it. We haven’t lost our game yet, have we?”

“Well, no but—”

“And, we haven’t lost any of our players.” Dave looked right into John’s eyes now, kind of severe. “Right?”

“Right, but—”

“But nothing. You asked for my opinion, and I’m giving it. Here’s what’s up. I think you’ve done a pretty fuckin’ bang-up job.” 

“Uhh. Thanks.”

“That said, you’ve got a ways to go, best bro.” For just a moment more Dave kept up the solemn gaze. Then, he broke into a shit-eating grin. “Maybe you should ask Vantas to give you a few private lessons.”

John groaned. “Dave…”

Dave gave John another of his infamous tough-guy back-pats, and John yelped. A little heavy on the mangrit, there. “Whelp, ‘bout time to ollie outie.” Dave finally replaced his shades on his nose, and the world felt right again. “Not-disgusting human kind of grub’s probably ready. Grossout nasty shit trolls eat is probably ready too.”

“Oh good, I’m starving.” John’s mood perked up, as excited to be done having The Talk as he was at the prospect of food. “What are us humans having?”

“Dunno. Whatever Terezi managed to alchemize up.” 

"Terezi's making the human dinner, too?"

"Yeah. It's her turn tonight. Tomorrow's Kanaya's, and so on down the list. Folks can volunteer if they want, but we’ve found it helps to have a schedule.”

"Uhh, no offense, but isn't Terezi blind? How can she…?"

“No worries. My girl’s got a killer sense of taste. I mean.” Dave gestured to himself. “Obviously.”

John rolled his eyes, and extricated himself from the puppets, a squeaky and laborious affair. After he and Dave exited the room, Dave made a point of crossing the hall to rap on the adjacent door with his knuckles. Jade's door.

Davesprite's voice answered from within. "Yeah?"

To John's ears, the sprite sounded a little strange. Almost upset. Or. Nah, he was probably just imagining things.

"Yo, other me.” Dave leaned close to the door and cupped his hand into a makeshift megaphone. “Chowtime. Was thinking maybe you wanna grab Jade, and head that way with me and John.”

A hesitation. 

"John's with you?"

John frowned. Why would he ask that? Was something going on?

"John's here.” Dave’s voice sounded a little strained. “Look, John’s hungry, if you’re busy I’ll just go on ahead with him, you guys can meet us later. Ain’t no big.”

“’Kay. Probably better do that."

John's frown deepened. Great. Something was going on. But, what else was new.

Shooting John an apologetic look, Dave jerked a shoulder in the direction of the door, and murmured in an undertone. “Nothin’ to worry about. I’ll explain later. ‘Kay?"

“’Kay," John agreed, though judging from his friend's tone, he wasn't really sure he even wanted to know.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came out a little faster than usual. Hope this becomes a trend, I've been trying to speed up the drawings. They're a little sketchier than some of the older chapters, but I think my art is improving too, so I'm happy. I drew most of these while on lunch break with coworkers... drawing all those smuppets in public made me really uncomfortable, luckily nobody asked.  
> I like writing/drawing grumpy John. Don't worry, he cheers up after this chapter. He's just a little sleepy.


	11. The Art and Science of Being in Cahoots

By this point in the manual, it occurs to your humble author you may yet feel, though we've spent three chapters discussing the ins and outs of quadrants already, not quite ready to move on to a new, non-quadrant-related topic. Never fear—after this chapter, we shall return to quadrants posthaste. But before moving on to the no doubt highly anticipated The Quadrants, Part IV, I feel it would be in our best interest to examine one oft-overlooked aspect of troll relationships. I speak, of course, of the state formally referred to as being "in cahoots."

~ Rose Lalonde

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dinner was sort of a catastrophe. 

This was not because dinner wasn’t as delicious as Rose’s meal had been. Because it was. In fact, it was better, unexpected considering trolls and humans turned out to have radically different diets. Terezi had alchemized two separate meals, one for the humans, one for the trolls. The humans’ dinner consisted of barbecue chicken, corn on the cob, sweet rolls, and ice cream for dessert. Terezi had gotten every flavor correct, down to the subtle hint of hickory in the barbecue sauce. John was impressed.

The trolls’ dinner consisted of what appeared to be giant roast bugs. The beetle-like creatures lay belly-up like sad, overturned turtles on the trolls’ plates, their multitude of spindly legs raised in surrender. Their outer shells were wrinkled and crispy, charred blue-blackish, steaming like they’d been pulled right out of the oven though they’d really come out of the alchemiter like all of their food. The roast bugs smelled surprisingly not-horrible, but John still didn’t think he was in any danger of breaking Rule Three anytime soon. He was pretty sure could live without knowing what troll food tasted like for a little while longer. Possibly forever.

Dinner was a catastrophe for different reasons. Though nobody was talking about it, something was clearly going on between Jade and Davesprite. Although the two entered at the same time, they sat down at opposite ends of the table, and refused to speak to, or even to look at each other throughout the whole meal. They both looked like hell to John, so he refrained from complaining about his own miserable state. John didn’t think he had the right to complain about anything anymore ever again, when he compared his troubles to the crap everybody else seemed to be going through.

To John’s, and apparently everyone else’s utter astonishment, Karkat actually showed up for this meal, too. The diminutive troll looked to be in an even worse mood than he’d been in at breakfast. Hood up, hiding his face as before, Karkat slinked into the dining room. He snatched a plate with the smallest roast bug, glared pointedly at Kanaya as if to say, “See? I’m eating food. Are you fucking happy now?” And then, without seeming to register John's presence at all, Karkat stalked off to the furthest corner, turned his chair away from everybody else, and began rapidly shoveling bug meat into his mouth with his back turned. The “leave me the fuck alone” vibes he exuded were almost palpable. 

John was a little upset to see Karkat hadn’t gone to bed yet. If John could’ve used three more years of sleep, it looked like Karkat needed about thirty. John debated internally whether to pick up his plate and go sit beside him, but then he figured if Karkat had wanted company he wouldn’t have sat down alllll the way over there, would he? The claw-scratches on John’s arms were healed—not only did god tier revive you from the dead and give you awesome powers, it also gave you speed-healing. Still, John thought he’d be more likely to avoid further clawings if he waited for Karkat to make the next move. Despite the progress he and Karkat had, maybe, made in their conversation earlier, John was still nervous about the prospect of re-awakening Murder Mode. Well, that, or.

Or, maybe that was just an excuse John was making for himself. Maybe the real reason he’d developed a case of nerves was because he’d thought he would have more time to think before having to talk to Karkat again. John squirmed in his chair, staring down at what remained of his dinner like he’d forgotten what he was supposed to do with food. 

Rose and Kanaya entered the dining room, and John perked up. Maybe they’d sit next to him, forming a convenient sight barrier between him and Karkat! John had started to feel lonely sitting all by himself. Dave and Terezi had been sitting with John earlier, but then Dave had taken off early with Jade and Davesprite, announcing they needed to “get down to some very important business.” Nannasprite had had her hands full trying to teach Casey the salamander to bake chocolate chip cookies, which had of course ended in a huge dough explosion, and Terezi had left the table to help clean up. Terezi’s behavior was a lot more subdued than usual, which John guessed had to do with whatever was going on between her, Jade, and the Daves. Terezi seemed completely un-bothered by the washcloth she was using, however, supporting John’s suspicion that the deal with buckets had nothing to do with trolls being offended by cleaning products.

Rose and Kanaya navigated their way through the cookie dough mess, filled their plates, and sat down a few chairs away from John. John sat up straighter in his chair and smiled wide. "Hey! What's up, guys? I mean, girls?" 

"Hello, John." Kanaya inclined her head. "Rose and I have been engaged in a rather fascination conversation about pre and post-Empire auspiticism practices. Perhaps you would like to listen in and give us your opinion?" 

John slumped back down. "Uhh. Okay. Sure." John spent a few minutes pretending he was interested in what they were talking about, scooting his chair over to join them. Unfortunately, after listening for less than a minute he realized he had no actual idea what they were talking about. Defeated, John decided Karkat had the right idea. He ducked his head low over his plate and shoveled chicken into his mouth, trying to finish his food as quickly as possible so he could escape back to his room. John almost choked when Karkat's voice resounded through the dining room. 

"Kanaya, how the fuck do you figure it makes any difference whether auspiticism is a socially-constructed behavior or not?” Looking up, John saw Karkat get up from his turned-away chair, abandoning his barely picked-over dinner, though he did pause to snap a bug leg. He marched towards the two girls, eyes fiery yellow in the shadow of his hood. 

Undaunted, Kanaya dabbed her lips with a napkin, watching Karkat approach with narrowed eyes. “I have read many well-supported theories—”

“No.” Karkat made a cutting motion with the bug leg. “You and I both know the Empress threatened the scienterrorists into spouting whatever crap she wanted! I mean, obviously auspiticism is some combination of construct and instinct. Who fucking cares which came first? It’s a stupid grub-and-egg argument, and that’s not even taking into account—"

"Karkat, perhaps Alternian sociology is not important to you, but—"

“Damn right it’s not, Kanaya, and it shouldn't be important to anybody else either, because guess what? Alternian _anything’s_ a non-fucking-issue, that's why! Our species is gone! Wiped out! Who even gives a behemoth’s left shame globe about pre-empire auspiticism blah-de-blah anymore? We're all that’s fucking left of Alternia, so here’s a wild idea. Why don’t we just flush our garbage social conventions down the load gaper where they belong, along with that reeking shitball of a planet, and quit living in the mothergrub-damned past?”

John's eyes widened, fork dangling limp from his hand as Karkat continued to ramble on. Why was Karkat picking a fight with Kanaya? Especially after Kanaya had been nice enough to fix John’s torn shirt as a favor to Karkat? Was this about what had happened between the two trolls at breakfast? Or, had the topic of conversation just rubbed Karkat the wrong way?

Before he was given a chance to figure it out, John found himself pushed entirely out of the loop as the argument switched to the trolls’ hiss-click-growl language. Rose, who had apparently done a great deal of studying in the three years she'd been on the meteor with Kanaya, didn’t miss a beat, switching to hiss-click-growl language with ease to defend her girlfriend. Meanwhile, Karkat leaned across the table, one hand braced on his knee, foot on a chair, waving the remnants of the bug leg angrily.

Lost, John hunkered down over his chicken and tried to tune the three of them out as he made short work of the few scraps of food still on his plate. Just as he was sucking the last bit of meat off of his final chicken bone, the cacophony of consonant-heavy syllables from across the room quieted. John looked over to see Karkat whirl away from Kanaya, tossing his plate down on the table as he strode in the direction of the door. John wondered whether Karkat had won or lost the argument, and whether it meant he and Kanaya were really angry at each other, or if this was just the way they normally interacted. Neither Kanaya nor Rose looked terribly surprised or upset by what had happened. They continued their talk, quietly, in Alternian.

John lowered his eyes down to his empty plate as Karkat passed, feeling sure the troll was going to walk right on by, ignoring John the way he’d done at breakfast. However, risking an upwards glance, John was startled to see Karkat looking right at him. 

John’s body jerked hard and he almost fell out of his chair, heart pounding, blood rushing to his face. Karkat looked just as surprised to find John meeting his gaze. The troll’s lips twitched, face cycling through a wide range of split-second expressions, eyes darting everywhere before returning to lock with John’s. Boy and troll stared at each other for a drawn-out moment, neither sure of exactly what to say to one another. In his peripheral vision, John saw Terezi sniffing at them. He saw a flash of white teeth, full black lips stretching upwards at the corners. Uhoh. Did she…?

“Egbert, we’re still going to, like. Talk about shit. Tomorrow. Right?"

John jerked a second time as Karkat spoke, then laughed at his own skittishness. “Ah, um, uhuh, sure! Of course! Yep!” Oh yeah. The picture of cool and collected, that was him. John Egbert, the coolmeister. “I mean, if you still wanted to. You do still want to, right?”

Karkat’s bright eyes narrowed to slits under his hood. He had the look of a man seriously reevaluating his life decisions. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don’t flip the fuck out, I was just checking.”

This close, in the light of the dining room, John noticed the symbol stitched onto the hoodie Karkat always wore had been sewn with bright red thread, contrasting with the black fabric, subtle yet attractive. The perfect neatness of the seams exactly matched John’s repaired god tier hoodie. Kanaya must have sewn the hoodie for Karkat. What was their relationship, exactly? They weren’t in any of the troll quadrants together, were they? John wondered whether there was a polite way to ask about that.

“So, um.” John flashed Karkat a smile that felt entirely too big, too enthusiastic. He couldn’t help it, he felt so twitchy. John kneaded his hands in his lap, below the table, jogging one knee up and down, unable to keep still.

“So?” Karkat prompted with a sidewards glance. John was moderately consoled by the realization that, though he was trying to appear bad-tempered as usual, Karkat’s eyes were a little too wide, lips drawn a little too thin. He looked as skittish as John.

“So,” John repeated, failing to suppress a giggle as he tried to remember what he’d been about to say. “So…” Oh yeah, “Um, hey! So, where should we meet?”

Karkat blinked. “My block is.” He stopped, looking unsure. “Wait. Shit. No, that won’t work. Gamzee might—” Karkat grimaced at whatever he'd been thinking Gamzee might do, then his gaze returned to meet John’s, searching. “Is your block? Is it okay if we?”

“Block?”

“Room.”

“Sure!” John replied, unthinking. Then, a million questions rolled through the back of his mind, like, did he have another chair Karkat could use? Was there enough space? Did he need to clean up a little before going to bed, or could he leave it till tomorrow? But the only question he asked was, “What time?”

“What time?” Karkat shrugged, unnecessarily sharp. “Whenever, I guess.” His head cocked to the side, brow scrunching in thought . John grinned. With his jerky movements, Karkat looked kind of like a wild animal. Like a bird, or something. “I mean, whenever… whenever we both wake up from however long we’re undoubtedly going to be sleeping in for.”

John barked out a laugh. “Right! Yeah, I’m pretty tired.”

“You should get to your human bed.”

John laughed even harder. “Look who’s talking!” John’s laughter trailed off as he noticed they had an audience. Everyone in the room, including Nanna and Casey, had stopped what they were doing to watch. Great. Yeah, this exchange didn’t look suspicious or anything. John sighed under his breath, realizing he probably couldn’t keep what was going on to himself forever.

But, John decided, giving the spectators in the corner of his eye another brief glance, he could maaaybe keep it to himself for just a bit longer. He stood up from the table, stretching and yawning, still wholly unable to banish the stupid smile from his face as he looked at Karkat. The troll stared back, unsmiling, gaze steady. They stared at each other without speaking for a little too long, again. John knew he needed to clean his plate and get going before anybody raised any awkward questions, but he was torn. He didn’t want to leave just yet. But he didn’t know what else to say.

“John,” Rose called out. John looked over to see Rose curling a beckoning finger in his direction. “Come sit with us for a moment?”

John winced, then gazed apologetically at Karkat, who looked more relieved at having an excuse to leave than anything else.

“Guess this is goodnight for real, John.”

“Yeah, goodnight! For real!”

Lowering his head and casting his whole face in shadow, Karkat absconded with admirable speed. John felt the tightness in his chest loosen the moment he was gone, and he was able to breathe more easily. Man. That had been kind of intense! Smile still twitching on his face, John strode over and sat back down at the table with Rose and Kanaya. Oh man, Rose was giving him that _look_. In fact, they were both giving him that _look_. This was not cool. The last thing John needed was not one, but two snarky broads getting all up in his business.

“So what’s up?” John faked cheerfulness, which was at least easy with his plastered-on smile. “Can you make it quick?” Faking nonchalance was a little harder. “If you ladies don’t mind, I think I wanna go to bed soon, okay? I’m really tired.”

“So we can see.” Rose cast a smile of her own in John’s direction, sugar-sweet with only the slightest hint of insinuation. “You look a little unsteady on your feet, John. Is everything alright?”

John gulped. “Yeah, everything’s cool! Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Rose leaned in, voice lowering. “You haven’t told me yet. How did ‘it’ go?”

John wanted to smack himself in the forehead. “It.” He’d completely forgotten Rose knew about “it!” John snuck a glance at Kanaya, who was making a show of being preoccupied with cutting the remnants of her roast bug into tinier and tinier pieces. “Oh, it? Um, it was good! It went pretty well, actually! Thanks for asking.”

Rose's smile remained steady, but her right eyebrow gave a minute twitch. “That’s good to hear. You didn’t run into any… trouble… with ‘it,’ did you?”

Oh, geez, John thought, c’mon Rose! Just drop it!

John faked a huge yawn, which prompted him to then yawn a second time, even bigger, and completely for real. Rubbing his eyes, he said with faked disinterest, “Oh, nope, no trouble.” Then, brightly, “Hey, I’m pretty tired, like I said. You know what, how about this—I’ll tell you all about ‘it’ tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, as in, sometime after he had a good, long heart-to-heart talk with Karkat. Sometime after they’d figured everything out once and for all. By themselves. Without any interfering busybodies poking their noses in left and right.

Speak of the devil, Terezi chose exactly that moment to plop down in the chair directly across from John. Plunking a dish laden with a fresh, steaming bug in front of her, she flashed them all a big, cheeky smile. “Hi! I heard you talking!” Terezi wriggled to settle herself in her chair. “Wanna let a girl in on some of these secret goings-on, for once?”

John’s eyes widened in horror. Well, now that was direct! “N-nothing all that secret is going on right now, actually.” John averted his eyes as Terezi began tracing a line down the bug’s soft under-carapace with one extended claw, revealing juicy purple flesh underneath. Uggggh. Rose had been sitting right next to Kanaya while they’d both been eating, how the heck was the girl not grossed out by that? Turning, John saw that Rose’s face was pinched, and he wondered if maybe she was, in fact, still a little grossed out by the troll’s eating habits. Or, more likely, she was just annoyed at having her passive-aggressive interrogation of John interrupted by Little Miss Straight-Shooter, here.

“Nothing? I find that highly doubtful. I can smell the deception in your voice. It’s putting me off my appetite.” Despite her words, Terezi paused to spoon a huge, quivering mouthful of bug meat into her mouth, lips smacking. John looked away again. _Yuck_. 

“Well, why don’t you tell me what you think is going on? ‘Cause I sure don’t know what you’re talking about!” Normally John had more patience with people, but he was still cranky from lack of sleep. 

The corners of Terezi’s lips turned up.

“I,” Terezi dipped her spoon into the bug flesh, “am talking about,” scraped the bottom of the shell, “you,” popped another chunk of meat into her mouth, and, chewing, finished, “and Karkles.” 

Kanaya was glowering at Terezi now, too, though whether it was out of reproach for her poor table manners or for invading their conversation, John couldn’t say.

John raised his eyebrows in mock innocence. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Egbert, don’t play dumb with me. There’s something going on between you and him, right?”

“I…! What? No, there’s no something! There is not one single something!”

“Even I could not help but notice.” Kanaya cut in, skeptical. “Your demeanor only moments ago was remarkably similar to an eight-sweeper in the process of inviting the object of his romantic interest to the bi-solar-sweep communal schoolfeed gathering.”

“You looked like you were asking your sweetheart to the high school prom,” Rose translated helpfully.

John edged his plate aside with one finger, then lowered his head until it rested on the table, with a very soft _thunk_. He moaned into the polished oak. “You guuuuys. Can you please stop over-analyzing every little thing? Please?” John covered the back of his head with both hands as though taking cover from an air raid. “I’m dead tired, I wanna go to bed, and I promise we can talk about it tomorrow. Assuming there’s even anything to talk about tomorrow, because right now there isn’t!”

Lifting his head and blinking in the light, John looked up at the three girls surrounding him, and felt pure, unadulterated hopelessness descend. All three wore these identical, "we’re not leaving you alone until we get some answers, buddy!" expressions. John believed it. He was starting to understand why Karkat was so fond of storming out of rooms. Lowering his head back down until his chin rested on his folded arms, resignation set in. John decided, maybe it was his turn to start asking nosy questions. After all, these three had been sharing this meteor with Karkat for years, and Kanaya and Terezi had known him even longer than that, right? Maybe they could help John get inside Karkat's head.

“Terezi.” Terezi was prying a bug leg loose. John made a point of scooting his chair up and leaning closer to her out of courtesy, although it occurred to him afterwards she couldn’t even see his polite gesture. Oh well.

“Hmmmm?” Terezi freed the bug leg from its carapace with a sharp jerk, accidentally flinging a shard of bug carapace in John's direction. It whooshed past his face, a near miss. Gross.

John chose to ignore this. “What’s Karkat’s deal?”

Terezi laughed and crunched the leg between her teeth, sucking out the juices with a slurping noise. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that! Something is _always_ his deal, Blueberry Windybuns. I can’t say what it is this time, in particular.”

John tried to overlook the way, every so often, Terezi speckled the table with a mixture of aqua-tinted saliva and purple bug juice as she talked with her mouth full. Judging from the look Kanaya was still shooting her from across the table, slowly inching her chair away, John guessed that this wasn’t just a matter of there being cultural differences in table manners. That was just gross in any culture.

“I didn’t mean right now, I meant in general! Why’s Karkat always so angry?” 

Terezi barked another laugh, pounding a fist on the table hard enough to make everyone’s tableware jump. Kanaya glanced at Rose and jerked her head to the side, and with careful dignity she lifted her plate and left the table, presumably to go eat somewhere quieter and more mannerly. Patting John’s shoulder as if to say, “You’re not off the hook yet. We’ll continue this discussion tomorrow,” Rose left the table as well, following her girlfriend’s lead. John felt a combination of relief at seeing them go, and terror at the prospect of being left alone with Terezi.

Terezi ignored the both of them, still shaking with laughter. “Why’s Karkles so angry? Gosh John, do you want me to write you a list? Hope you’ve got time, because it’s going to take awhile. Bring me a couple of notebooks and a whole box of chalk, make sure there’re some extra red ones for a snack, ‘cause I might get hungry again before I'm done writing it.” Still chuckling, Terezi leaned back and started picking bits of bug shell out of her teeth with one long, unsheathed claw.

John tried not to let that faze him. He leaned even further towards Terezi on his elbows. “So, he’s got his reasons, is what you’re saying.”

Terezi continued picking her teeth. She didn’t answer for a moment. Then, after successfully prying a particularly large piece of… something… out, and flicking it onto the floor, she sighed. “Karkat is a veritable train wreck. Got more issues than I knew existed. I mean, okay, lots of trolls have issues. Almost all of us. Kind of comes with the territory of growing up as a member of a species that raises its wigglers to cull or be culled.”

John shivered and sat up straight again, feeling more awake. Terezi had gone back to picking her teeth. She had a thoughtful look. "That said, fate dealt Vantas an especially shitty hand." Terezi stared off into the distance with blind eyes as though seeing something John could not. “He was born with delicious candy-apple syrup running through his veins. He’s what we call a mutant: off the Hemospectrum, no proper symbol, no blood caste, no place to belong, to be safe. Really dunno how he even made it to his first metamorphosis, quality control drones usually jam a fork through off-colored wigglers on sight!”

Terezi jabbed her spoon into her bug’s picked-clean carapace, and gooseflesh rose on John's arms. Terezi had just made an offhand reference to routine infanticide. Dave hadn’t been making that up.

Hoping he wasn’t being horribly culturally insensitive, John said, “Wow, that’s pretty awful.”

To his relief, Terezi replied, “I know, right?” She sighed again, looking glum, and lowered her hands to her lap. “Karklypants and I had a thing going, for awhile. A red thing. I couldn’t help but fall for him, he was a such a sassy little sonofabitch. I loved how serious he was about everything. Flailing around everyday with his dorky sickle, ranting on and on about getting into the threshcutioner corps, making all these plans to win this game. Plans to rebuild our whole species from the ground up.”

John’s eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

Terezi smirked. “I’ve known the wee Karkadizzle for a looong time, Mister Egberry. Practically since we still had our crawling legs. I have so much dirt on him, it’s almost obscene.” Leaning back in her chair, she grinned, coy. “But if you want to hear anymore, you’re gonna have to pay the toll. The troll toll.”

John scooted his chair back a bit, eyes wide. “Pay? Um… shit, how much? Dave took pretty much all of my boondollars and used them in some kind of stock market shenanigans…”

He trailed off as Terezi began laughing, shaking her head so hard her red-tinted glasses slid down on her nose. “I know! He sent those to me! That’s the whole reason I started trolling you dweebs in the first place, remember?”

“Oh. Well, uh. If you already have that many boondollars, I don't know if I…”

“I’m not talking about boondollars, John! Seriously, who cares about those?” Terezi leaned forward, teeth bared in a grin. “I smell something red and fruitylicious in your sylladex, John. Trade me that, and I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know about Karkat.”

Fruitylicious? Frowning, John parsed through the items in his sylladex. He didn’t remember captchaloging anything fruitylicious recently, but he didn’t think Terezi’s nose would lie. Oh! Of course! Decaptchaloging the item, John held it out and waved it in front of her face, tantalizing.

“Aww yeah, that’s the stuff!” Terezi held out both hands, licking her lips with a long, aqua-tinted tongue. “Gimme.”

Feeling like a slick pimp daddy, which was definitely sort of close to something Dave might say, John tossed her the box of Wild Cherry Apeshit Apocalypse Gushers, and tried not to be weirded out by the way she hugged the box, streaking her tongue across the printed cardboard label. After Terezi finished flipping her shit over the box of gushers, which took a lot longer than it should have, John cleared his throat. “So, um, you said you’d tell me some stuff about Karkat?”

“Sure. Ask away.” Terezi chuckled, tearing into one of the foil-lined packets and dumping its contents into the palm of her hand with scarcely-concealed jubilation.

“Can… can I ask why you guys broke up?”

Terezi looked up from sniffing her bounty of small red polygons. Her smile faded a little. “Hmm. That’s… well. Remember how I was saying Karkat’s always totally serious about everything?” John nodded, and Terezi’s face crumpled further. “Well, I thought that was pretty cool, at first. He acted like everything was life and death. Turns out for him, it actually was.” Terezi breathed out through her nose, running her fingers through her hair, tossing the gushers up and down in her other hand like a set of gambler’s dice. “He always needed to be in control, bossing people around, obsessing over stupid plans. He was a pretty good leader, actually, much as I hate to admit it.”

“Dave said that too.” John smiled, sad. “So did Vriska.”

Terezi scoffed quietly, then snapped her teeth and caught a gusher in midair, startling John. The jelly treat popped, squirting bright red juice out onto her lips and chin. She grinned, licking the stuff off with her extra-long, blue-tinted tongue. John decided that it was probably not a good idea to talk about Vriska anymore.

“So, what happened? With you and Karkat?”

Terezi made an annoyed sound. “After the deaths… once it seemed like we’d lost the game, lost everything… Karkat became insufferable.” Terezi licked a drop of bloodred juice off her fingertips. “I mean, I guess we were all in a pretty bad state. It was a pretty bad time. Obviously. But, Karkat? He just _snapped_. He stopped eating, stopped sleeping, turned into this hyperactive nervous wreck. Did nothing but pace back and forth across the labs, barking out nonstop orders that didn’t even make any sense, and then giving people shit for daring to suggest maybe, just maybe, we were all doomed. There was no point to any of it, anymore. And you know what? He was right. I mean, we got to where we are now, anyway. But now that the dust’s settled and we’ve gotten time to really think about things, now he’s the one spouting doom and gloom! Arghh, it’s so frustrating!”

John frowned. “So he’s just worried about everything? Why's he stressing out now? I mean, there’s hope, finally. We’re back on track, we have a plan, and I totally think we can make this happen!”

Terezi lifted a slightly sticky fist, smiling as John hesitantly bumped his against it. “You’re preaching to the choir, Johnny Appleseed.”

John stuck out his tongue. “Enough with the stupid nicknames!”

Terezi laughed, and scarfed down all of the remaining gushers in her hand. Swallowing without even chewing, she tore open a second packet, pouring out a second handful. “It was pretty selfish of me, I guess.” Terezi closed her hand around the gushers, crushing them in her fist.

John blinked. “What was?”

Opening her hand, Terezi allowed the juice to trickle down through the cracks in her fingers. The bloodred gusher syrup began to tap out a slow, steady drip onto the table. “I wanted somebody I could  clown around with, you know? That’s how I’ve always dealt with life’s hoofbeastshit. I can’t let shit get under my skin, or it’ll tear me apart from the inside out. Like… like what’s happening with Karkat, I guess.” Terezi tilted her hand, allowing more fruit juice to pool on the table. “Dave’s been a much better flushed choice for me. He and I are a lot alike, we can both agree to let shit go and take comfort in simple things. Like drawing, and music. And… other things.” Her face turned a little aqua, and John's cheeks reddened as well when he realized what she probably was referring to by “other things.”

“After meeting Dave, I realized how much being around Karkat was cracking me the fuck up.” Terezi’s eyes narrowed. “It's not that I don't feel bad for him, but I’m no good at any of that comforting-people crap. I know how to close myself off and live with what shit happened, but Karkat can’t. Everything has to be _his fault_. He takes the leader thing too seriously, can’t let anything go, can’t forgive himself for his mistakes. It was _exhausting_ , John. I couldn’t deal with his constant bitching and negativity-spewing. So I dumped him, the end.”

“Oh.” John nodded. Then, when that didn’t seem like enough, he added, “Sorry.”

“No worries, Egberry." Terezi snorted. "He’s all yours now! You can have him. Hope you like giant, steaming heaps of idiot drama!” 

John wasn’t sure what to say. His voice caught in his throat, and he ended up just making an embarrassing noise. Meanwhile, Terezi retrieved her spoon and began spinning it between her fingers like a baton, trying to look flippant. However, a crinkle appeared down the center of her forehead, and she stopped, catching the spoon between two claws with a _clink_.

“No, that didn’t come out right.”

Terezi set the spoon down on the table and lowered her head. John didn’t reply. He sat quietly, waiting for her to go on.

“It wasn’t all Karkat’s fault. Karkat needs somebody… nicer than me. Somebody who knows how to make a person happy.” Terezi lifted her head as if to look at John. “I hope you have better luck than I did.” She broke into a strained grin. “Who knows? Maybe a little bit of Vriska’s luck rubbed off on you.”

John smiled back, corners of his eyes itching. He was glad somebody was finally acknowledging Vriska’s death without flinching, even if that somebody was Terezi. Especially if that somebody was Terezi. Because, despite the troll girl's crocodile smile, he could tell from the look in her blank red eyes, barely visible from behind her shades, she was being about as nice as she could manage.

John reached over and placed a hand on her arm. “I’ll try my best! I bet he’ll snap out of it real soon! You’ll see!” Terezi’s skin felt strange under John’s fingers. Harder than human skin, and John could clearly feel the outline of bone and rock-hard muscle underneath. Terezi radiated an unnatural warmth—it made sense that trolls would run hotter than humans, with the temperature difference between their planets. John found himself wondering whether Karkat felt as warm.

Laughing, Terezi reached over and papped John right in the face. He couldn’t help but cringe, because, bug juice. Eww.

“I know you can do it, you aderpable-est of Egdorks, you!” Terezi crooned, pinching his cheek between two fingers. “You are the best at friendleadering, it is you.”

“Ow, ow, stop!” John jumped up from his seat, flailing his arms to dislodge her. She pinched way too hard!

Releasing his cheek, Terezi patted his rump matter-of-factly, nudging John towards the door. He squeaked in indignation. “You ought to be heading to your human bed now. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

“Oh, um.” John blushed, her semi-disguised praise belatedly registering. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem! It’s my turn, after all.” Terezi showed a mouthful of teeth slightly stained purple from bug juice. “Your turn’ll be coming up soon. We all pitch in and do our part around here, understand? As if we were all in cahoots, like.”

“Cool. Okay!”

Turning back to her plate to yank the final leg off her bug, Terezi said in parting, “If you want any more dirt on our esteemed mutual colleague, the Honorable Sir Crabapple Candypants von Karkliepoo, you know now the types of bribes I’ll be accepting, yes?”

John stared for a second, then smiled, catching on. “Sure. There are more gushers where those came from, Madame Chancellor of the Dining Room Court.”

Terezi beamed at him, then, using her cane to extend her already-way-longer than average reach, she nudged him in the butt yet again, sending him stumbling towards the door. “Get going! Snoozetime’s at a premium around here, as I’m sure you know.”

John laughed as he headed for the door, spirits significantly lifted, wiping the remaining traces of bug juice off his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep thinking about shelving this fic, but every so often I go back and read a bit of my first draft and remember how much I liked writing it, so I dunno. I think for now I'm going to keep plowing on through. I haven't lost my love for Homestuck or Johnkat in particular by any means, I've just got a lot more going on in my life that keeps bumping updating this fic to the bottom of my to-do list. I think as long as it seems like people enjoy reading it, I'll try to stick it out to the end. I'm like. Not even half done yet. XD (I'm sorry.) (Thank you to all who leave comments. If I don't reply to your comment, it's not because I don't love you, it's because I'm shy and I never know what to say. I am the worst writer.)


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